~ I ~
I first met Caramel in the spring of my second year in Equestria, on a rather chilly morning that revealed the cold airs of winter had not yet been cleaned out by the weather pegasi. I had never seen him before and, even with Ponyville being the small town that it is, I never expected to see him again. But when one’s circumstances are rather similar I suppose it is best to assume future meetings are inevitable.
I had lived in Canterlot for eight months prior, acting as a sort of transfer from earth to Equestria via a rather strange portal that looked like a mirror. Twenty-five, bachelor’s degree in hand, yet no job forced me to leave the relative known of the world that is earth and travel to Los Angeles to apply to be a transfer to Equestria. I was among the fourth wave of transfers, those who willingly crossed the barrier into a land filled with magical equines.
After eight months, I was allowed to go free, wherever I wanted, and eventually settled down in Ponyville which had a sizeable human contingent and was one of the three major towns where humans could live and roam freely without discrimination. I rather quickly found a job that fit my major – an accountant at a small bank – and a nice house not too far away from where I worked.
The one problem, of course, tended to be the fact that, despite the fact that the human population was advertised as being ‘sizeable’, it was in comparison to Ponyville’s population. Five percent seems like a lot, but when the town’s population is little more than two hundred, I found sparse there. Even worse, most of those in the town were male, and the two women available were already quite taken by their own human partners, thank you very much. One or two of the remainders were somewhat taken by some of the mares, and one even started a relationship with a stallion much to all of our surprise. That left myself plus six more either disinterested in the mares or stallions, disgusted by the mere idea yet being kicked out of our brains that such an act was immoral, or simply disillusioned with the prospects of the new situation we had found ourselves in.
Friendship, however, is what tends to be emphasized here. And so we tried, with some relative success, to make friends with the townsfolk. I was never very outgoing to begin with, and so I found myself in the relatively poor position of being shy enough to barely speak with the fellow humans present and being so inwardly afraid of the rather exuberated pony populace that I rarely wanted to speak with them despite the attempts made on both sides.
Quite simply, aside from the pay at the bank and my admittedly nice house, life sucked. It’s quite true that money does not buy happiness, especially so in a place that is much less materialistic than back home. But a change of venue does not equal a change in personality, and because to quit for such petty reasons as ‘I want to go home’ does not earn one points in the job market, I remained in Ponyville, paying off the house and earning enough for living expenses without earning terribly much more in pocket change. I lived comfortably but not passionately.
This is not to say that the Ponyvillians themselves were the cause of my state of life being terrible. Rather the opposite; they are rather empathetic creatures, and so when one of their number – be they human or pony – is in a state of depression they are rather in-tune to it and do whatever they can to help out. I received gifts in the form of cookies and small cakes from the local bakery, flowers from the local gardeners, fresh fruit and pie from the ranchers, books from the librarian; most of the gifts came from ponies I did not know or at least did not remember the name of, which while touching did nothing to alleviate things.
Around the beginning of spring and a few weeks after the Winter Wrap-Up ceremonies I went to see a therapist for the first time. Calm Mind, Psy D., a silvery-white unicorn stallion with a rather bright and neatly groomed pink mane, welcomed me in warmly and set me down for a cup of tea and cookies while he gained what background information on myself that I could give him. It was only after I had finished my tea twenty minutes later that he finally took me into an adjacent room and had me sit down on the couch.
“So,” he said by way of a beginning. “It’s quite obvious you’re not feeling right, Mr. Thompson. I can tell; there are certain vocal and physical cues that tell me you wish to be happy but you’re not. Let us see if we can at least get to the source of the issue today. Now, when did this start?”
I sighed. “About a year ago, I came here to Ponyville with a degree in accounting and looking for a job. I spent eight months at the transfer center in Canterlot learning Equestrian history and making slight modifications to my diet before being released and moving to Ponyville. I met with the local human population, a bit distressing since it was smaller than I imagined it, and shortly afterwards I started feeling sluggish and somewhat disinterested and disillusioned with what was going on.”
The whole time, Calm Mind was taking notes on a notepad he had with him. “Had you been feeling sick at all before then? I’m talking physically sick, such as a cold or a fever.”
“No. I had a mild one over the winter because I wasn’t used to the cold, but none back at the transfer center. I got vaccinated for pony diseases first thing and came out of there clean.”
“What about homesick? Had you been feeling homesick at all?”
“Not terribly. The place where I lived, Palm Desert, is merely two hours’ drive away from Los Angeles where I entered the mirror portal. While frequent trips back and forth between the worlds are not recommended, I could always take a week off and easily go see family back home.”
“Have you made that trip at all, recently?”
“Back during the week of Hearth’s Warming Eve. Arrived the night before, came back the day after New Year’s. Went back through the transfer center and was given a quick check by the doctors and they found no traces of sickness from the relative quickness from the crossing, though I couldn’t go back through for another two months.”
“I see. And what about your diet? Have you been to see the doctor recently?”
“They make us take a day off at the bank for a checkup every three months. Doctor Stable and Nurse Redheart said I was clean and have adjusted well to less meat, but said I can’t rule it out entirely otherwise I’d have iron deficiency. I have occasional headache and backache, but they’re easily taken care of by an acetominaphen tablet. I believe Redheart is the one who signed my recommendation to see you?”
“Yes, she did. And your medical records confirm all of this, so I believe we can take off any elements of physical sickness off the list of possibilities of contributions to your current predicament and move onwards towards mental illness. As much as you may not like it, we now have to divulge somewhat into your private life to really get into the meat of things.”
I looked at him awkwardly, quite unsure of what was to come next. Calm Mind smiled warmly at me in response and continued in a kind and even tone.
“I’m afraid I might ask a few rather personal questions. However, if there’s anything at all you don’t wish to tell me, simply say ‘no comment’ or somehow inform me you don’t feel comfortable with it. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything against you.” The first page of the notepad was flipped over and he began writing on a new one. “Firstly, what are the current circumstances regarding close personal friendships?”
I shrugged. “There is one other human male I talk with frequently. He works at the coffee shop that opened a few months ago as a barista. However, we don’t see each other that often.”
“And what about among the ponies?”
“They try. I mean no disrespect to your race, Doctor, but ponies are rather in-your-face compared to humans, and quite frankly, we have a different definition of what constitutes ‘personal space’.”
“Well aware. I assume Pinkie Pie is among the list of ponies you would describe as being a rather convenient example of in-your-face communication.”
“I am sorry, Doctor, but even with her reputation I am familiar with a name but have no face to go along with it.”
“Pink mare, balloons as a cutie mark, bubblegum pink mane that is rather fluffy and curly.”
“...that’s her? She must have been talking too fast for me to get it.”
“You’re not alone there. But I digress; I am guessing it is safe to conclude you do not have very many close friendships among the ponies.”
“Yes. I have tried, but I must confess that the majority of the ponies here are rather more excitable than I’m used to. And as gentle and kind as they are, it still is too much for me.”
More notes were written down. “Backing off a little, have you ever been involved in a serious committed relationship with anyone?”
“There was a girl at the transfer center I was interested in and we became somewhat close. But she moved off to Phillydelphia and prices were too high and jobs too few there for me. I came to Ponyville because the expansion offered job opportunities and it was affordable.”
Calm Mind nodded and scribbled down some more. “Are you still in contact with this girl?”
“No. She found someone else. Wrote to me in a note about it.”
“I see.”
There was a little bit of scribbling before Calm Mind spoke again.
“Well, I do have some information. I believe we have a cause of your current state.”
“Oh...?”
“It appears to be a mix of social anxiety combined with what might be atypical depression. You seem sluggish and mildly irritable, have some negative thoughts towards the general populace of ponies, and have remarked in earlier statements you feel distanced from your human peers and feel at least somewhat out of sorts. However, we can also narrow that down to your situation being you coming here, and there is also a longing of wanting to connect with others but feeling insignificant or unable to. You also remarked with lightness of your home and of your trip back home at Hearth’s Warming and seem somewhat consoled by the relative closeness of family, plus you came to see me soon after the nurse’s recommendation, which suggests a mild high point caused by the potential of figuring out what was going on with you. Does this all seem correct?”
“...I believe you’re not too far off the mark there, Doctor. But... what can I do about it?”
“Well, there are medical ways and alternative ways to approach this. Being a doctor, I can prescribe to you medication – in this case, duloxetine – that would alleviate the physical and emotional symptoms you now face, including the backache and headache. I would start you off in smaller doses since it doesn’t seem to be too major right now, but I would recommend coming back in in about two weeks for a checkup and see if a change in dose is needed.”
“Would the insurance from the bank cover it?”
“Ponyville Hospital takes pretty much any and all insurance; I think we can reduce the price of one hundred twenty, 20-mg capsules – about two months worth – down to a reasonable ten or twelve bits. However, I also would heavily recommend alternative methods. There are exercise classes that should be starting up soon; I recommend you take part in one of those. Buy a stuffed animal from around here; the softness will be good to feel at nights and may help reduce some feelings of anxiety. And, above all, try to formulate friendships. Get in contact with others, get out there. Just try talking with ponies. You’ve shut yourself up so much you’re afraid of letting others in. Let them know about your boundaries, and maybe you’ll start to find they’ll respect them if only you let them know.”
I paid thirty bits for the session and got the prescription for duloxetine, but also got Calm Mind’s phone number and the notice I could call him at whatever time I wanted; apparently, he ran his practice out of his home. I went immediately to the hospital, but they said it would take twenty-four hours, so I went home right afterwards and they said they would send it to me by mail no charge.
The day after, I received the pills. They said to take one in the morning and one in the evening with food. The day after that, I met Caramel.
As I said, it was a cold morning, around seven o’clock. The pegasi had set an overnight storm and the clouds were still heavy and grey and a light wind blew through town and made me wrap a jacket around me. I had woken up early and left the house even though I didn’t have to be at work until eight-thirty, but I wanted to go to the coffee shop and talk to my friend about this whole thing and see if he was having the same problems.
I arrived shortly after it opened. It’s a cozy little place with a few tables and a glass case full of freshly cooked items ranging from egg sandwiches to plain bagels and cream cheese to fresh iced donuts, which also made it a good place for me to take my first anti-depressant.
I went up to the counter and a brown pony with a darker mane came up. “Hey, what can I get for you?”
“Do you know if Soren is in?”
The brown pony shook his head and frowned sympathetically. “Sorry. He got sick yesterday and took today off. I don’t think he’ll be in tomorrow either; he sounded pretty congested.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.”
The brown pony looked around awkwardly for a minute before giving me a big smile. “So... do you want anything?”
“Uh... Hot caramel latte, the... waffle bites, and the fruit cup.”
“Alrighty. Be out in a minute.”
I took a seat at the counter and pulled out the bottle of duloxetine and started reading the exact directions for taking them. As I did, a caramel-colored pony with a brown mane came up alongside me and sat down a few chairs over and heaved a sigh.
I paid little attention to him. I looked up to see him enter and took note of it, but I didn’t say anything. I waited until the pony came up with my order, paid and tipped him, and began to eat. The pony next to me ordered something and sat alongside me.
“Hey.”
I looked around, confused as to where the voice was.
“Over here.”
I turned around to see the pony looking at me. He pointed to the bottle. “Is that duloxetine?”
I looked at the bottle, then looked at him. “How’d you know?”
He pointed a hoof to himself. “Seasonal affective disorder. Have to take it every winter. Just got off them from last year.”
I nodded. “You have any issues with it?”
“Not really. Was a little tired and peed a bit more often, but it went away after a few days.”
“Thanks, I guess...”
We were silent a bit more afterwards. The pony got his own meal and also ate.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
“James. James Thompson. You?”
“Caramel. Just Caramel.”
“Neat.”
“...you come here often?”
I shrugged. “Friend of mine usually works here. I stop by on occasion.”
“Cool. Place makes a good caramel latte.”
“That how you got your name?”
“No. Color of my coat, mostly. Nothing... nothing special.”
“Huh...”
I got a glass of water from the barista pony, took the first of two duloxetine tablets, and got up. “Sorry to cut this short, but I have to get to work.”
“Alright. See you around... maybe.”
“Okay.”
That was it. That’s how I met Caramel. Just a short meeting in a nondescript little coffee shop.
Oh, how things have changed since then...
~ II ~
I didn’t see Caramel again for a whole week. Which didn’t matter to me initially, as I didn’t quite expect to do so. But for some reason, the aptly-colored pony stayed in my mind for quite a while after our encounter despite not seeing him again. There was something slightly different about him compared to the others, and the source of this seemed to be quite simple to find.
For starters, Caramel had been rather calm and sedate around me instead of bounding into my face. He had spoken to me in small doses and didn’t immediately try to get into the personal aspects of my life. I based this all on his recognition of the duloxetine; his knowledge of the anti-depressant, his giving advice with it, and his probable knowledge of my condition led him to be a little different, a little more careful in handling me than others.
That, and I did end up peeing a little more often. And I had a dry mouth.
I did not go back to the coffee shop for a week. While it was nice, I had enough to eat at home that I didn’t need to go to the shop every day.
Calm Mind called me once to check on my progress.
“Good evening. How are you feeling? How’s the anti-depressant working?”
“Okay, I guess. I don’t feel completely better, just like I feel a little less apathetic sometimes.”
“That’s how it’ll work. Just try to maintain a positive aspect. Have you done anything else I recommended to you?”
“Oh, like buying the toy or joining an exercise class? No, not really.”
“If you’re looking for suggestions, I’d recommend a yoga class being run by a pony named Tree Hugger. She teaches beginner and advanced classes, and that will be good for your exercise and for relieving anxiety. And what about making friends?”
“Well... not really.”
“I would seriously recommend that. It’s good you’re taking the anti-depressants, but it won’t be enough. You need to put in the time and effort into making sure you’re cured.”
“Just... do I really have to?”
“I’m not telling you just because ponies are naturally friendly. It’s good to have a support network to help you get through these things. And because they’re naturally friendly, it should be easy to find help and support.”
“Okay. ...do you know anyone I could talk to, maybe?”
“You could try Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
“...the princess? Seriously?”
“If nothing else, she used to be a librarian and has a large amount of books on almost any subject. Maybe you could find some on your condition or psychology books on how to make friends, if you wanted. And she won’t be so in-your-face.”
“But she’s a princess. She’d really talk to me, like, person-to-person?”
“She is the ‘Princess of Friendship’ for a reason.” For once, Calm Mind’s voice turned to exasperation mixed with pleading instead of his kind, calm, measured tone. “Just try for me, please. You came to me for advice, and that is the best I can give you.”
I did not go to Twilight Sparkle.
I did go by a certain dance studio one evening after work and note that a yoga class was to start taking place on Saturday mid-morning. The attendant at the front of the studio left and returned with a green earth pony mare with red dreadlocks that I was quite sure was high, tired-looking eyes looking slowly over me, and proclaimed that this was the yoga instructor.
“You want to take the yoga class?” the green mare asked, her voice very laid-back and distant.
“Um... yes. I was wondering how often it meets and how much it charges.”
“Oh, I don’t exactly take care of that. You’ll want to ask the studio manager.”
“...isn’t it dependent on when you want to teach?”
“Doesn’t matter to me when I do. I just know the poses and try to teach them to others. It really, like, helps with calming your aura.”
“Right...” I turned to the attendant. “Do you have any idea what the times are?”
“Oh, wait.” The green pony spoke up again. “I’ll be teaching a... beginner’s class Saturdays at 7:00mn and an advanced class at 3:00an. Sorry, I kind of, like, space out at times. It allows my aura to flow more freely.”
Equestrian time is divided slightly differently than on earth. As opposed to 12-hour timeframes, Equestrians use 8-hour time-frames. The morning mn cycle goes from approximately 4am to 12pm, the afternoon an cycle goes from 12pm to 8pm, and the night nt cycle goes from 8pm to 4am. Thus ‘7:00mn’ stands for the seventh hour of the morning (mn) cycle, or approximately 11am our time. “Right... do you remember what the pay is?”
“Ten bits per session. You pay when you arrive each day individually. I don’t like charging for a whole class at once.”
“Okay. When does it start?”
“Next weekend. I finish modeling for a figure drawing class next weekend.”
“Okay. So, where do I sign up?”
“I’ve got a list in the room they’ve given me for an office. Come here.”
I followed the green pony, apparently slightly more sober than she was ten minutes ago when I first walked in, over to the small office room. She pulled a chart off the wall and gave it to me and a pencil to sign with. I found the first available slot and signed in on the beginner class at 7:00 mn, along with apparently fourteen others, and handed it back to the green pony. She looked it over until it seemed she approved of it, and set it back on a desk.
“James Thompson, huh? Never had a human before. Body structure might be more suitable to the types of poses we do. Oh, and my name’s Tree Hugger. Look for the name tag outside the room the day of the class.”
“Okay. Thank you, Tree Hugger.”
And I walked out of the studio and headed off home. Tree Hugger seemed a little out there and weird, but honestly her laid-back demeanor made her a little easier to get along with compared to some of the others. And she seemed kind, and focused enough once she actually straightened out. I decided the yoga class might not be too bad.
But I didn’t go out anywhere else and didn’t try to make any more friends.
Key word being “try”, because I feel I inadvertently made one.
I began to attend the coffee shop on a more regular basis. I became well known to the barista pony, who called himself “Café Latte”. No, he wasn’t the friend, but I ordered things on a regular basis and went frequently enough that he began to recognize what I would order. It was almost always the same thing: caramel latte, either the waffle bites or a ham and egg sandwich, and a fruit cup. By about a week since the first time I met Caramel, he could pretty much ask me which one I wanted, and have it ready for me in two minutes.
He didn’t talk much either, which I appreciated. One particular morning I surprised myself by asking him why he wasn’t so eager to make friends with others even though the coffee shop didn’t attract too many customers and thus he could talk if he wanted to.
“Never been my thing,” he responded. “I’ve got my close circle and that’s alright with me.”
“Do you ever talk to those outside?”
“Oh, sure. It’s not that I won’t turn down the opportunity to make a new friend, but people aren’t usually in here for that. They’re here for a cup of coffee and a quick bite. If they want to talk I’m always available, but I leave it up to them.”
“Huh... bit unusual by this town’s standards.”
“Yeah, a bit. Is there anything else I can get you?” he added with a polite smile.
“No. I think I’m good. I just need to eat and take my pills. “
“Alright. Call me over if you do, though.” And we went to go clean off a few cups.
I sat alone for a short while. I went over and grabbed a free newspaper – “Foal Free Press” is decent despite the fact that it’s apparently run mostly by the local school kids – and read it while I sipped my coffee and ate my sandwich and fruit cup.
“Oh, hey, it’s you.”
I looked up to see Caramel approaching. “You’re... James, right?”
I nodded. “You’re Caramel, right?”
“Yep.” He took a seat next to me and waved Café Latte over. Caramel took his own order before falling silent for a moment. He sighed. “How... how are you?”
I did not anticipate a terribly long conversation, so I kept the newspaper up. “Good.” I turned to face him. His blue eyes were looking at me curiously, and his mane stuck up in places like he’d recently got out of bed. “Uh... h-how about you?”
“Good. Hey, uh, just a question, I was wondering what job you have.”
I shrugged. “I’m an accountant of sorts. I manage deposits and withdrawals from the bank.”
“Oh.” He fell silent for a while, seeming to ponder things. “You must be a little more educated than others that come here.”
“Oh. Why do you say that?”
“Well, I guess from what I’ve seen of the other humans. They all don’t go in to such positions like that. Like, one got hired at the music store, another’s a baker, and another helps on the farm I work at.”
“Oh. I suppose that’s cool. Um, what do you do?”
“I buck apples and help haul baskets around at Sweet Apple Acres. Not much, but it is decent work for decent pay.”
I set my newspaper down. I could carry it with me to the bank and read it at lunch. “Do you have any edu— I mean, did you ever get a degree?”
“I used to go to a community college in Canterlot. I just got a math and science degree, mainly in Biology. Kinda helps when you’re an earth pony to know about soil, agriculture, and stuff like that.”
I nod and go back to my breakfast. So does he for a while.
“So... how are the duloxetine working for you?”
I shrug. “Mouth’s a little dry. Peeing returned to normal. And my sleep is a little lighter than normal.”
“But it is working, right?”
“Mostly. I don’t really know how it works, so I can’t tell if it’s working.”
“Trust me. I know it seems like it isn’t, but you’ll feel better on it compared to off it.”
“Thanks, I guess. Not sure what that’s supposed to mean.”
“Eh he he he... I’ve been told I should be a little clearer sometimes. I mean it really does help even if it doesn’t seem like it at first.”
“I suppose.”
We both went back to our respective breakfasts. I read a full article in the Foal Free Press talking about a new piece of legislation put in place by Princess Celestia about a new tax exemption.
“Hey,” Caramel spoke up while I’m reading. “Do you... exercise much?”
“Not really. I... I signed up for a yoga class, but only because my psychologist recommended it.”
“Oh. I took one once. But I’m really clumsy and can’t do it well.”
“I’ve never been good at it either. Never really considered doing it again until the Calm Mind said to do it.”
“Oh, you have Calm Mind as your psychologist, too? Did you know he knows hypnotherapy, too?”
“Uh... I think he’s the only major one in town. And what’s that?”
“He can put you into trance and make you relax, de-stress, or feel better.”
“...well why doesn’t he just do that in the first place?”
“It doesn’t work on everyone. I don’t think it worked on me, but maybe you can get him to do it sometime and see if it works for you.”
“Huh.”
“Hey, James?”
“...yeah?”
“Just to change the topic, you ever read the Daring Do series?”
“Yeah. I own three. They’re not bad. I have ‘Eternal Flower’, ‘Marked Thief of Marapore’, and ‘Forbidden City of Clouds’. They’re short, but interesting.”
“Which is your favorite? I personally like ‘Marked Thief of Marapore’ the best.”
“Yeah, I like that one, too. It reminds me of a movie I watched back at home. Something like ‘Temple of Doom’.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s like Daring Do. An archaeologist keeps going after artifacts but finds himself going up against enemies trying to use it for themselves.”
“Do you have a copy with you? I’d be interested in seeing it if it’s similar to Daring Do.”
“It’s rated a little high, I think. Your ‘Teen’ rating is similar to our ‘PG’ rating, and your ‘Adult’ is similar to our ‘PG-13’ rating. So... depends on your preference.”
“I can handle it. My older brother used to scare me with horror movies; I can’t stand those, but something like that should be fine.”
“Cool. I guess I should see if I can have it sent here. I have it; I just didn’t bring it with me.”
“Nice. Oh, and if you want, I could let you borrow the first one. ‘Sapphire Statue’.”
There was something to that phrase that struck me as the moment I found myself liking Caramel. I don’t know what it was. It almost felt like we’d gone through a sort of rite of passage in knowing each other. First came the depression and duloxetine as an ice-breaker. Then we learned each other’s names and jobs, then searched around and finally found the common ground. We had something we could talk about.
“Thanks. But... we barely know each other.”
Resistance is natural in those with social anxiety; or at least it seems natural to me. I don’t know him, I really don’t. And so because of that I’m nervous about what he might say or do. Maybe he’ll turn out to be one of those people (or ponies, I don’t give a damn about terminology) who says one thing but does something different, or put a whole bunch of extra details on it later. I was hesitant to trust him with that so quickly in case he was easy to provoke to anger.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve read it a bunch of times. Consider it a gift; you can have it and read it as much as you want, and I’ll just ask you about it later if I want to read it again.”
“I guess, but only if you’re sure about it.”
“Really, I’m sure. It’s nice to meet another Daring Do fan.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
I said goodbye to Caramel and left the coffee shop for work not much longer later. But as I did, I found myself feeling a little lighter somehow. People always use the same metaphor of feeling like something’s been lifted off their back, and let me tell you it’s the easiest way to describe it. I felt better, freer, and somehow I even felt happier.
I went by a toy store on the way home. I bought a pink unicorn with a purple mane and blue eyes just because I thought it was cute. Kind of tripped me out, though, until I realized it was a popular character on one of their TV shows and not just some stuffed animal. So I bought a grey wolf, too, just so I didn’t feel so weird about it.
But it felt good.
And then I kind of realized something.
I was lonely. I bought the unicorn because it looked like the ponies. I felt lighter because I had found common ground with Caramel, who respected my boundaries and was nice and friendly without being exuberant.
I might have actually found a friend.