I’d imagine that if you were with somepony for a good portion of your life, you would always remember their face.
The truth is, it is very easy to forget their face.
You know, all I remember of you were those eyes. Violet. Even as we were almost ending our prime, they still held so much life. You always had a passion for doing the good. Of showing everypony that the world could be good.
The most terrifying sight in my life was when those eyes were no longer full of life.
Can I just… can I just remember something of ours? Nothing extraordinary, I assure you, but… it came to my mind the other day, and I just want to tell you about it.
Remember that day you came after the Kremlin approved your school? The happiest day of your life. Of course, we would have to be moving, but we didn’t have any kids.
Not that we didn’t try, anyway.
Unless you count that blasted ball of furry fury you called a cat. She still tries to sleep on your side of the bed.
Siberia… you know, I heard stories of that land. Cold, harsh, and yet you take the land as a symbol of pride. Back in London, we…
No.
No, I don’t wish to remember London. I doubt my family wishes to remember me, living here in Moscow.
That day you came back excited, you sat down and completed one of the more terrifying applications of magic I’d seen you do yet. A rare alicorn, Russian-born, and yet you decided to fall for me all those years back in Prussia. I knew my magic, but masterfully cooking, cleaning, humming, and petting the cat without breaking a sweat, oh I can only imagine the focus required for it all!
And yet you did it effortlessly.
I didn’t blame you for telling your favorite student first before me. She would be the one missing you. Shame we hadn’t adopted her from the orphanage.
Twilight still cries about you every now and then, from what I hear.
And then, once the food was placed, you took out that bottle. You always scolded me for drinking, yet you took out the vodka we were saving for when we actually moved out, and then drank half of it all in one sitting.
“Come, Dissy,” you told me, “Dance with me!”
“No no no…” I answered back. “My bones aren’t what they used to be since the 1890s!”
I had said no, and yet you somehow managed to reject that no with just that body alone, grabbing my paw and pulling me to the center of the apartment. You began to hum a song, that one specific song that was played all those years ago, as you pushed your barrel up to my chest and began leading me across the room. Soon I joined in, and we couldn’t help but sing the lyrics.
We had horrible singing voices, yet we didn’t care. You were drunk, and I was happy we would soon be rid of that miserable Moscow weather. Of course, I was exchanging Moscow for Siberia, but I hoped the air at least would be clean.
I still have that purple dress you wore that day. Most of them I’ve given away as mementos to your family, yet that purple dress, the newest one you had just bought, with the flower design… it was your happiest dress, and of course you wore it on your happiest day.
Once we had danced enough for one day, we sat down at our table, giving ourselves time to breathe. The cat jumped up into your lap, and you started petting it as you talked to me about what you were going to teach at the school. In between bites of your cooking, you planned a whole year’s worth of lessons on history, phonetics, writing, and literature. I had let you ramble, as I doubt I could put a word in anyways, and your voice was the best when you were so cheery.
I miss your voice.
The funniest part of that conversation was when you had somehow sobered up in the middle of a practiced lecture on the rise of the Soviet Union, and took a look at the vodka. You grabbed it and pointed your hoof at me, blaming me for drinking the bottle that we weren’t supposed to touch until we had already left Moscow. I laughed for the longest I ever had, and shocked you by saying it was you who drank it all.
Alicorn metabolism sure worked strangely, hadn’t it?
You didn’t believe me, so I had to show you by giving you a surprise kiss, pulling you back from your chair and spinning you around until you were leaning back. Looking up at me, I spoke in my most romantic voice.“You have the worst breath that anypony who drank half a bottle of vodka could ever have.”
You tried sniffing my breath, but you just smelled your cooking instead. It took you only but a moment before you realized you indeed had drunk the bottle, and you laughed.
I miss your laugh.
I pulled ourselves up, but we held onto each other, swinging softly in each other’s embrace as we let the silence reign for a brief moment. So many futures were planned in that moment. A little bird stopped by our open windowsill, and we both turned to watch it lean close, before it suddenly snatched a large piece of your bread from the basket near the window.
“Hmph. Now that bird will be happy too,” you had said. I nodded, leaning closer as we continued rocking.
Three days. Three days later, it was all gone. I still have work here in Moscow, yet I know that someday, there will be a big change. If only you could be here to tell me what that change could be. You were always so smart that you could see and predict what would happen. And usually, it would happen.
I miss that about you. I miss your laugh. I miss your voice. I miss your eyes.
Yet for this accursed life of mine, I cannot remember your face. I have no photos to even remind me about you.
I’m… I’m sorry Celestia. I cannot remember your face. Every day, I remember a new memory, yet something is missing from that memory. Every day, I forget.
No matter how I try, I just forget.
And I’m afraid that one day… I’ll forget you.
I’m sorry.
Author's Note
I saw the picture, had an idea, and wrote this in one hour and some minutes.
Thanks for reading!
