Letters From Octavia

“Dear Vinyl,
It’s only been a month and I’m already struggling. I thought writing you a letter might help make it easier. I’m not sure if it will but I feel closer to you already. I suppose by now you’ve started performing at parties again. I hope so. I think about how happy you look behind the mixing table every day. I’m sure you think about how sad I feel behind the bar every night. Don’t worry, I’m safe, like you always tell me to be. I carry the pepper spray you gave me whenever I’m out at night. I know how you worry about me and I hope that, that will set your mind at ease. I can’t stand the thought of you worrying about me each night. You only said once that you had trouble sleeping when I wasn’t with you, but now it haunts me. I worry every evening that you aren’t resting enough. Ironically, the thought keeps me awake.

Not that I can sleep well anyway. The bed is so large and empty without you there. I always complained about having less room because you’d hog the bed… But now it’s so empty. Now there’s too much room. It’s cold too. I never really thought about how cold it was when I first got in bed, because you were always there to warm me up instantly. I still hold onto those sweet nights that you’d warm me up the “fun way”. Those were the most wonderful moments of my life… Your arms around me… I always feel safe in your arms. I miss you, my sweet. Please hurry back to me and you be safe as well, because I worry about you too.

And… please don’t forget me. I know I’m clingy and you always call me desperate when you are mad, but still l must say it. I am so afraid that you’ll fall out of love with me. There are so many wonderful mares in Manehattan and I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I hope it doesn’t make you mad when you read this. I hope you understand how much I’ve missed you and how hard it’s been for me. My heart says you’d never stop loving me, but my brain keeps telling me that I’m not good enough for you, and that you’ll find someone so much better.

I’m sorry, Vinyl. I should be supportive. I want to tell you how proud I am, because it’s true. I want to tell you how amazing you’ll be and that you’ll be famous because no one could ever be better than you, and that’s true as well. But I have this gaping hole in me and it hurts every instant that I am not distracting myself. Sometimes in the morning I am hurting so deeply that I’ll just sit on the shower floor, sometimes raising my hooves to wash my mane is too exhausting, and sometimes I’ll see the most mundane thing and think of you, and burst into tears. Yesterday at the market I started crying over a pineapple of all things! Then this old mare started crying next to me because she thought I was going to buy the last pineapple. I won’t lie, that cheered me up somewhat.

Please forgive me. Maybe with time I will be the supportive mare you need. Perhaps with time I will love you properly and not be so selfish, but I had to tell you all of this at least once. I had to let know how I miss you and how every day seems longer than the last. I can’t lie to you. I want to be mean and tell you to come home. I want to be so cruel and keep you to myself… But I can’t do it. I can’t say that. I need you happy. Your happiness is what keeps me going. Without seeing that sweet smile every day, I don’t think I could keep going. I stare at your photograph all the time. That’s my little Vinyl fix for the day. You just moved to a different city, you didn’t die or leave me forever; so why do I feel so shattered? Why is my whole life a raw open wound and everything around me is salt, irritating it more and more?

I’m sorry, love. I told you I’d stop feeling sorry for myself. I said I’d be supportive; and I will. I can always write you. So, this is the last letter I’ll write like this. I just had to say it once. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t let my low spirits bring you down. I’m certain you are on the top of the world and I can’t hurt you by….”

Octavia stopped writing. She crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash alongside a dozen other failed drafts. Her tears had stained the paper anyway so she couldn’t send that one. She looked at the tear-stained parchment in the bin. Vinyl couldn’t know how she was hurting. What kind of marefriend could do that? She had to be strong for Vinyl. Octavia sniffed a little and dried her eyes one more time. She lifted her pencil in her mouth again and carefully began writing.

“Dear Vinyl….” She paused a moment and sighed, then began again.

“My Dear Vinyl,
I know it’s been a month and I am just now writing. I hope you aren’t mad. I’ve been so depressed lately that I have barely been able to get out of bed. But I don’t want this letter to be about that….”

“BUT THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I’M DOING!!” Octavia screamed and pounded her hooves on the desk. She grabbed the paper and tore it to shreds, throwing her pencil. Veins pulses in her neck and forelegs as every muscle tensed and her fury at herself blinded her. She tore apart the room, throwing the desk over and ripping her sheets off the bed. The fury depleted itself rapidly and was instantly filled torrents of agonizing sorrow. She sank slowly onto the overturned desk, crying into her ripped sheets; sheets Vinyl had bought when they first moved in together. “Oh Celestia… forgive me...” She sobbed the words quietly, but they echoed through the bare apartment. The lonely cello in the corner still reverberated with the sound of Octavia’s scream, causing the low, ominous droning of cello strings to fill the room. Octavia had very little in the apartment. She was a pony of very few needs, and so when Vinyl had moved and taken all her belongings, she left a lonely, empty apartment behind. Most things Octavia had, were now ruined by were nightly rages. Barely anything was left to damage but the desk and the bed. Most of the kitchen appliances hadn't survived the first week of Vinyl's absence. Octavia cried harder into the sheets that suddenly meant so much to her now that she ruined them. Her heart throbbed more with every breath. Every second of her day was spent with the white mare for the past four years. She worshiped the ground the party pony walked on. Vinyl would get angry at her and would be impatient, but that’s just the sort behavior you expect from geniuses and Vinyl was a genius, there was no doubt about that to Octavia. Octavia herself was a great cellist, but Vinyl, in her eyes, could do no wrong. If Vinyl needed a certain level of patience herself that she couldn’t give, that was okay. Octavia was more patient than most and she could take it. After all, she was short tempered, but not abusive. The DJ gave Octavia everything she desired, right when she wished for it. She lived well because of her. Vinyl Scratch knew how desperate the cellist was and she knew the emotional damage that had caused her to be that way. Although she could reach the end of her fuse because she had a lot of baggage to handle, she took care Octavia. She sympathized with the little foal inside Octavia who had been so abused. Even when she snapped, Vinyl knew how to heal those old wounds and make the world seem brighter… Perhaps that was her true special talent.

The needy grey mare was happy with her DJ, and whatever tradeoffs were required of her were well worth it. She thought on how Vinyl would be so hurt, how Vinyl must surely think she had been moved on, and that not writing was a sign that Octavia didn’t truly love her. She imagined how hurt Vinyl would be to know that the mare she held above all else, had become a violent, bitter, alcoholic in just four short weeks. Octavia’s heart began to spasm with each gasp. She thought of Vinyl coming back, famous and wealthy, and blowing Octavia off. She imagined the white unicorn hating her for never writing, never understanding the agony that the Earth pony had felt, never knowing the weight of the depression that had seized her marefriend. Octavia breathed steadily and raised herself up. She slowly flipped the table into its proper orientation and sat on her bed. She wrapped herself in the two halves of the blanket and picked up another sheet of parchment and, after recovering her pencil from the floor, began to slowly write.

“My Dear Vinyl,
I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of what you are doing and how dedicated you are to our future. Please write to me and tell me about how wonderful our life will be. I’ve missed hearing you talk about our life and how happy our children will be. I miss it more each day. I know you are probably worried because you haven't heard from me, and I need you to know that I’ve been faithful to you. I’ve not even thought about anyone else. I want you to know that. But…”

She paused and closed her eyes, trying to stay calm.

“I’ve been unable to write you because…”

She smiled through the tears and started writing slowly, deliberately thinking through every word choice.

“I have been offered first chair in a very prestigious string ensemble. So, you are building your career to make our dreams come true and so am I. I have been so excited to tell you but I had to confirm it was definite beforehand, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Octavia sniffed and smiled, exhausted. She would tell Vinyl she was replaced in a few weeks and all would be well. No doubt to Vinyl it would be because those hacks wouldn’t know talent if it hit them in the face. Sure, Vinyl would be upset at the imaginary ensemble, but this way she wouldn’t think that Octavia was simply not writing to her. She would chalk it up to Octavia wanting to surprise her and although she would think that it was a poor excuse, it did seem like the sort of thoughtlessness that Octavia regularly showed. The cellist’s smile faded again and her little joy at possibly saving her relationship was gone. Even if Vinyl wasn't upset, she would have to live with lying to the mare she loved, the mare she hoped to marry. Octavia breathed deeply and put it out of her mind for now. She had done this several times; fixing an issue and then getting herself worked up in regret for something she had done to fix it. She had to press forward and she could be punished later. This was too important to put off any longer.

“I picture you, happy behind the mixing table every night as I…” She paused, thought a moment, then continued. “as I fall asleep. I hope life is amazing for you right now, my angel. I just know you are already on your way to a great career in what you love. All I’ve ever wanted are your dreams to come true. Just don’t forget….”

Octavia stopped herself, becoming angry again. She punched her back leg with her foreleg hard. The pain helped her regain some self-control. Sighing with relief from the throbbing in her leg, she concluded the letter.

“about all the little ponies back home, cheering for you. Write to me soon, my gorgeous girl. I will be waiting so impatiently. I miss you. I love you so much.
All my love,
Octavia.”

The cellist closed her eyes as she imagined the days when Vinyl would be her only audience; the days when Vinyl would be the only one who would cherish her beautiful music. Now feeling a little lighter, she sealed the letter, leaning it against the candelabra on her shelf which was currently holding the only light source in the room. She looked at the letter a moment and then nodded. Yes, Vinyl would get the note by the weekend and everything would be all right. She blew out the candles and carefully walked to the doorway in the dark. Grabbing her keys and stuffing them roughly in her mane, she opened the apartment door. Then she glanced back at the letter, which glowed white in the sliver of light streaming into the room. She stared at it for a minute, then closed the door. The apartment safely locked up, and her salvation guaranteed, Octavia went to the nearest bar and got blackout drunk.