I'm Getting Back Into Getting Back Into You
"I'm Getting Back
Into Getting Back Into
Getting Back Into You"
~ The Silver Jews
Start here, where little sisters and school fillies can bring their fantasy into reality. Here, where there was a schoolteacher and a farmer who lacked the same thing. Here, where you end up in a pit with a bridal veil on.
Today's events were not misfortune. Today's events were fortune, plain and simple.
For the stallion and the mare, a picnic at the gazebo with one another would have been a welcome prospect any day of the week. They are friends, and old friends at that. Big Macintosh proposed the idea, and Cheerilee suggested they make good on it. He didn't bother finding a reason to object.
It was a slow walk to the gazebo as the two laughed and laughed at their own joke on the fillies. It was Cheerilee's idea. It was usually Cheerilee's idea. Cheerilee's ideas were generally better than Big Macintosh's.
"You carry the basket, Macintosh." He wondered why he hadn't thought of it first. He would have picked it up sooner, but he didn't wish to impose.
There was still plenty of time before they arrived at the gazebo. That time is filled with idle conversation, the kind of stuff you talk about when you don't talk to somepony for a long time, especially an old friend.
"I haven't seen you around too much."
"Nope..."
"I think I passed you on my way home from teaching last week, do you remember?"
"Eh... nope. Did you wave or somethin'?"
"No, I smiled at you, but I didn't wave." There is a pause in the conversation here. No one put it there, but both ponies feel obligated to remove it. It feels to odd to let silence linger. "I hear the ponies in Stalliongrad don't smile when they pass each other in the street."
"Why not?"
"They think it's insincere." It's not an important point, but talking about it let them pretend there was never a lull in the conversation. Silence inevitably returns though, but its rule is ignored. One pony tells himself it is time for quiet. One pony tells herself there isn't a need to keep talking. There isn't a shortage of things to talk about between the two, but silence reigns in silence. There is something that weighs on the pair. It's hard to talk about, so they wait until it's harder for them to remain silent.
"Reminds you of our first date, doesn't it?" Cheerilee points out.
"That was a long time ago." Big Macintosh dodges the question. He can bear silence for a long time, but now the subject is out in the open. It tempts him. He would have brought it up sooner, but he didn't want to impose. "We went to the edge of the Everfree for that, didn't we?"
"You should know, seeing as you're the one who asked." Big Macintosh had asked, but Cheerilee had agreed. Neither of the old friends would tell the story that way, though. They would add that they were young, and they were young. Youth means blindness to trouble, in their minds.
Yes, they had been young, but they hadn't asked to be young. No one had agreed to being young either. Big Macintosh needed to grow up fast and Cheerilee wanted to grow up fast.
Big Macintosh had big shoes to fill, shoes that only worn hooves and a patient mind could wear. To be more like an adult, he put matters of the heart aside and took up the almighty banner that flew for matters of the mind. He felt like it was far too much responsibility for him to bear, but he knew he must succeed. For the sake of his sisters, his grandmother, and his parents who had left him all too soon.
Cheerilee was a filly who started putting her nose in books early. Her parents praised her when she acted like an adult and all her friends loved how mature she was. She decided to become more and more grown up. She would be so mature that she would be able to help her friends become mature like her. She planned to blossom into adulthood so seamlessly that it would be like it had never even happened.
They were young, so they didn't realize only children want to grow up fast.
It occurred to them, maybe at the same time, that there was still one thing that set them apart from adults: adults have experience in this brave new territory called love. Nopony was more grown up than a mommy and a daddy in the eyes of a mere child. In the eyes of an adolescent, having a romantic partner was a necessary right of passage.
Nopony at Cheerilee's and Big Macintosh's little school had any doubts that the two ponies would be the first to pair off. Not only was it inevitable, they saw to it that it was inevitable. Big Macintosh came to understand why his friends asked him what he thought of Cheerilee all the time. She was like him, apparently. Cheerilee also realized why her friends would always point out Big Macintosh to her. He was like her, allegedly.
If opposites attract, then ponies who are similar must be forced together in the heat a forge and under a blacksmith's hammer. Neither pony could stick the other pony to their brain with a magnet, they needed to be soldered on. Big Macintosh grabbed a torch and set to work on Hearts and Hooves Day many years ago.
"I enjoyed our date," Big Macintosh confessed.
"Yes, it was very nice." Everything was very nice about their relationship though. The feelings they felt were very nice. The thoughts they thought were very nice. Ponies thought they were a very nice couple. It was only ever very nice.
"Better than our last date." Big Macintosh took an old story off its shelf. The two ponies took a quiet moment to reread the story that had played out so magnificently all those years ago.
It is a story called "Two Ponies Who Were Afraid". In the beginning, you meet two ponies who are afraid. A conflict arises when they decide to be afraid together. The climax of the story arrives when the decision is made to be afraid by themselves again. By the end of the story, both ponies are still afraid. The moral of the story is this: you're always afraid.
"I'm sorry, about that," Cheerilee apologizes, even after all these years.
"Naw, don't be sorry. We ran our course, no helpin' it if'n it came to an' end." Big Macintosh knew things had to end that day because Cheerilee said they had to end. Cheerilee's ideas were always better. "But... you never did give a reason for wanting to break it off."
"I didn't... did I?" Cheerilee had been blessed in that respect. If a pony never has to explain their actions, then a pony never needs a reason to do anything. Cheerilee hadn't ended it arbitrarily, though. She had a reason. She still has a reason. "I just felt like it was over."
"... Ah see." Big Macintosh knows exactly what she is saying. "Ah guess we never really did feel like the real thing." Cheerilee nods in response because when you are young feeling is everything. The two ponies aren't young anymore, so the reasoning suddenly feels flawed. Something stirs in their brains.
"We were young," is what Cheerilee wants to say, but doesn't. Big Macintosh would say it, but he doesn't want to impose.
A whirlwind of thoughts brings with it silence between the two ponies, a silence that has lasted so many years. Neither of them could even smile in passing most days, since they wanted to smile and be sincere. They wondered what they had wanted to be sincere about. Sincerely happy to see each other? Sincerely happy things worked out the way they did? Sincerely happy at all?
You don't know what you have until it's gone. They never felt like the real thing, but they did feel like something. They felt happy some days and sad other days. They felt like being together some days, but on other days they couldn't stand one another. They felt the same one day, and then they felt completely different the next. When you grow up, you realize your feelings are just a result of your heart flapping about in the wind. You realize you were a stupid kid because you linked your feelings to all your decisions.
They tried to feel right from wrong. They tried to feel significant and beautiful. They tried to feel out their purpose. They tried to feel what to do today. They tried to feel love. They tried to feel their way around as if they were blind, but even the young are capable of seeing.
Cheerilee and Big Macintosh did too much thinking about their feelings and not enough thinking. They were mature enough to escape the adolescent misconceptions of love and relationships, but something in their priorities changed when they started out.
"How should it have felt?" Big Macintosh asks. Fillies and colts do not ask this question because they believe there is some sort of emotion that will dictate to them the reality of their relationship. It is not a question of how, just of when, where, and who.
"I don't know," Cheerilee gives a mature answer. "I think I just wanted to feel... younger."
"But we were younger," is what Big Macintosh wants to say, but he refrains. He is an adult and he can reason his confusion out.
He may have known all along what she meant because he was thinking the same thing. The two had grown up too fast, but in their relationship they saw a chance to act their age. They saw their chance to feel young and feel in love, but they became disappointed when nothing changed. There was no magical moment where the feeling was just right. There was never a moment when they felt a euphoria so strong they threw all inhibitions to the wind. They didn't feel any different.
"But we knew."
"Huh?"
"We knew we were young," Big Macintosh clarifies.
"True... but I remember feeling older than I was."
It was strange to think that two ponies so set on being older would want to feel younger, but it's not strange to think that somepony who feels old would want to feel or be young again. The tales are countless. They are the tales of old warriors who try to have one last hurrah or the tales of stallions who seek out the sort of fame that keeps them young forever in the minds of others. The price of youth is always steep, but never too steep. What were Big Macintosh and Cheerilee willing to pay?
"I think that I thought, maybe, that," Cheerilee trips over her words. It's easy enough to say when she collects her thoughts for a moment. "That's just what I wanted from you."
"To feel younger?"
"... Yes." It's simple enough to say when she collects her thoughts, despite how it feels.
It's a strange contradiction: being older means wanting to feel young. A young pony who feels old must only take a look at themselves and say "I am young" to dispel the feeling. Big Macintosh and Cheerilee were too mature to admit anything like that.
"Can't really say I wanted anything different." Big Macintosh reveals, but it's no easier for him.
If you're good at heart, using another for your own selfish end will feel dirty. It doesn't matter if you're using them for monetary gain, to make yourself feel better, for their body, or for love. Thoughts and feelings can be ignored, though, so ponies get used over and over, day after day.
So which crime is worse: to love in order to be loved or to want to be loved so one can love? Is there such a thing as unselfish love? Can a pony only use and defile themselves and others? Will the ponies in Stalliongrad ever smile at each other when they cross paths? Where does sincerity come from?
"I'm sorry," and Cheerilee still apologizes after all these years.
The ponies arrive at their destination. The mood is a bit damp, but it's nowhere near as heavy and saturated as their thoughts. The moment has arrived to pick between two things that are not very different.
"Do you wanna sit under the gazebo? Under the trees there might be nice too." Big Macintosh leaves it to Cheerilee, but this time it is because he doesn't want to choose. He can't have both, but he doesn't want to be left with nothing either.
"I don't mind either way, you choose." He must make a choice. He doesn't vocalize it; he just walks over and sets down the basket under the trees. That is the decision he has made and it is plain to all who see him what he has decided. Even if he wants to change his mind later, he will remain. He will remain here simply because this is what he chose. There is significance in that.
Food is eaten in silence. There are ponies sitting on blankets all around, but those ponies are being affectionate towards one another. Big Macintosh and Cheerilee try to think of ways they can avoid conversation. It would have been great if some fantastic calamity were to befall Equestria right then and there.
The only problem was that both wanted to remain silent, but neither was resolved to stay silent.
"Big Mac?"
"Eeyup?"
"Do you regret going out with me?"
It's might be the most important question she has, maybe. It could just be the tip of the iceberg or a fork in the road. She wants an answer, so she decides she'd better get one.
"Why would I?" It's a deft evasion of the question.
"Well... because it ended?"
"Ah don't think ponies start seein' one another because they think it'll last forever." It's a frightening and keen observation, but Cheerilee notices a flaw in the logic.
"Then why?"
"Why what?"
"Why make the commitment?" Cheerilee makes the problem clear, but Big Macintosh still doesn't see it. "Why make a temporary commitment to be together? It's just... well, irresponsible."
"We were young," somepony finally says.
"That isn't an excuse." Cheerilee is right, it's a moot point. "We were supposed to be the responsible ones, remember?"
"Ah guess... but... by that logic asking somepony out might as well be askin' 'em to marry you."
"Well then," Cheerliee prepares to amend her statement. "That's how it's going to have to be." The amendment brings the summit to a close. The ponies in Stalliongrad can't even look at one another now.
"That's... a bit extreme."
"Maybe it is, but I have a right not to be satisfied with a flimsy decision. I'm not a cart that somepony can ride around for a while until something better comes along. I'm not a place holder. I'm not zero. I have significance, so I want a decision that has significance." Big Macintosh does not have the words or the will to impose upon Cheerilee's speech. "We were young, so forever was a long time for us. I know I wanted to be older, but I didn't want to be forever old. We might have had something special, though. I mean... we were afraid of forever, but we wanted to feel young with someone else... forever I guess. There's no shame in wanting to feel good, but there is shame in turning away when things feel bad. I wasn't thinking... so... that's why I keep apologizing... sorry." Even after all that she still apologizes. "Sorry for... going on a rant there."
"I'm sorry too." It's Big Macintosh's turn to apologize, but he isn't a pony of many words. "Ah just went with the feelin' of the moment... I maybe coulda changed things if I tried." He mulls his own words over for a moment. "The answer is yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I regret going out with you." He pauses only momentarily to let her know he isn't finished. "It's because yer right about what you said. I wasn't ready to commit to you... to us, I suppose. I regret not being able to keep it goin'." The two sit in comfortable silence. "How do you fall in love?"
"Falling sounds irresponsible. A pony should decide to be in love."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"Forever and ever... just like that?"
"Just like that," Cheerilee insists. Big Macintosh wants to impose.
"What if something goes wrong?"
"There is such a thing as a bad decision. If you're going to decide something, though, you'd best be prepared for something bad to happen. That goes double for decisions about forever." The fastest way to put out a burning boat is to sink it, but it's not like there's a shortage of water if you decide otherwise.
"Sounds tough." There is an age-old axiom that serves as the automatic retort when anypony makes that claim, but Cheerilee kept from letting it slip out. It's obvious, and it's to be expected. If Big Macintosh can't realize that by himself, he doesn't deserve to know. Besides, there's a much more important point to make.
"If it's a decision you're willing to abandon because things get tough, then it was a bad decision." She can't stress the point enough, and it was partly because she was guilty of it. The other part is out of earnest concern for somepony.
"Makes sense. We did have our share of fun, didn't we?" Big Macintosh opens up the door to much more lighthearted conversation. They talk of days past when Big Macintosh would take Cheerilee for a ride on the back of his cart while she talked about her day. He never had much to say, but she always had everything to say. He was a good listener, and she thought that was very nice. She was entertaining, and he thought that was very nice. It was always very nice, up until it ended.
"So... do you think there is any chance at all we would still be together today?" Cheerilee asks a big question. Answering "yes" or "no" would be saying a lot, but Big Macintosh is a pony who doesn't say much.
"Maybe." He can't commit either way. To confirm it would be to admit to wishing to want to pick up back where they left off, but denying it would mean he never wants to pursue a relationship with her ever again. He can't commit either way, not forever he can't.
After offering to walk her home, he mulls the issue over. He wants to sort it out, and he never wanted to sort it out before. Big Macintosh was friends with Cheerilee and content to be so, but all of tonight's talking and thinking had disrupted that calm inside him.
Otherwise, the two felt more comfortable with each other than they had in years. They didn't cover up their status of ex-lovers with their friendship. They are two ponies who pass one another in Stalliongrad and smile because they sincerely want to remember having passed one another. Cheerilee and Big Macintosh shared a closeness that felt familiar, as if nothing had changed. They shared an understanding of desires like two young ponies nervously unpacking a picnic in a forest glade.
"I had a lovely evening, Big Mac." Phrases like "we should do it again sometime" or "can we do it again next week" sprung to Cheerilee's mind. She can't say them because they actually mean "we will do this together again" and "we can do it again any week" in reality.
"Me too." Big Macintosh holds off on deciding. It was important, but he still had forever before he had to make his final decision. Besides, both parties were tired tonight.
"Well... good night."
"G'night." The door to Cheerilee's home closes and Big Macintosh heads back to his farm. The moment is not unlike so many they had when they were young. Silently, they decide to be young again.
AN:
I'm Getting Back Into Getting Back Into You by the Silver Jews inspired the title of this story, just fyi.
A big thanks to Tricondon for his help.
