You stare out the window at Pinkie Pie bouncing across the street towards your house. Living directly across from Sugarcube Corner has its advantages—you only have to drag yourself a few meters out the door to buy a small bag of coffee every week—but it also means the pink party pony can pester you whenever she pleases. She's been trying to throw you a party ever since you arrived a few months ago, but you don't want a party. You just want to be left alone. All these happy ponies expect you to be happy too, and they act like it's a crime that you aren't. And Pinkie doesn't understand the meaning of the word 'no.' She will throw a party for you, whether you want it or not; she's like some kind of fucked-up party rapist.
You've tried ignoring her. You've tried hiding. You wanted to call the police, but you know they'd just laugh at you. You have no one to turn to for help. You're alone, like always. There's only one option left: You have to face her directly.
If only you weren't such a wuss.
Pinkie has now reached your house. She gives a single knock before throwing the door open without touching the knob.
"Nonny~! Is today a good day for your party?"
It's now or never. Or tomorrow. You've been putting this off for a while, so another day wouldn't hurt, right?
"Helloooooooo? Are you okay, Nonny?" You jump back as Pinkie appears in front of you. "You aren't sick, are you? I hope not, because I really think today's the perfect day for your party! I'll invite everypony in town so you can make some friends!"
Sick. You could pretend to be sick and she'll leave you alone. That's a much better idea; just pretend to be sick forever, maybe tell her you have cancer. Oh! You could fake your death! That's sure to get her to stop coming over.
"Actually, I'm dying." Ten outta ten delivery. Super convincing.
"Pffft! We're all dying, silly! That's what makes life so great! If we lived forever, then every little moment would be meaningless. That's why Princess Celestia acts so strange. She's disconnected from the passion and fear that mortality grants us. She just mimics what the ponies around her act like so she doesn't alienate them."
Oh. That is not the response you were going for. You expected her to gasp, maybe a few tears, and then she'd run off to plan your funeral. But this...
You shuffle over to the couch and collapse onto it, not looking at the pink horse. "I... think I'm fine now, actually."
"You're not fine, Anon."
"W-what?" Your eyes snap up to meet two baby blues. Something is wrong. She never calls you by your name. You notice her smile is gone. "What do you mean?"
"You're not fine. You lock yourself away and avoid talking to anypony as much as possible. You constantly refuse any attempts at friendship." Her mane starts to deflate as she speaks. "You never eat anything except a few fruits every other day. Your hair is always knotted up and dirty. You haven't showered in days. You only own one set of clothes, and you refuse to let Rarity make you any more." Her ears are drooping now. Tears threaten to spill over from the corner of her eyes. "You never open the door when somepony wants to visit you. You never say hi to me whenever you come to Sugarcube Corner to buy coffee. You never laugh at my jokes." She's openly sobbing now, staring at the floor with her head hanging low. "You never smile... You're not fine, and you won't let me help you!"
Your body moves without thinking. You slide to the floor and kneel next to the crying mare. Wrapping your arms around her, you pick her up and cradle her to your chest. Her only response is curling into a ball. You stand up and slowly move back to the couch. You set her in your lap and try to jump-start your brain into forming a coherent thought.
Are you actually that pathetic? You haven't showered, but that's because you haven't done anything to get dirty; you haven't even been outside in a week... Okay, maybe that's a bad thing. But your dietary habits are fine. You don't eat much because you aren't hungry. There's nothing wrong with that, right? You don't need another set of clothes, since... Um... There's probably a good reason. And you don't need friends. Pinkie is just being overly emotional.
"I don't need any help, Pinkie," you mumble.
"...Then why won't you smile?"
"Because I'm not happy."
"But why!?" Pinkie looks up at you with teary eyes. "I've tried everything!"
"I'm not like you, Pinkie. I'm not a pony. You ponies can just... be happy. It's not that easy for me."
"I know it's not easy, Anon. Believe me, I know." She nuzzles into your chest. She seems to have stopped crying at least. "That's why I'm trying to help you. I know you can't do it by yourself. I can't either. I need my friends more than they'll ever know. They're the biggest thing that keeps me going. But you don't have any friends. You keep pushing everypony away, and that's only making it worse."
She wraps her hooves around your stomach, hugging you tightly. "Please, Anon. Please let me be your friend."
"I... don't think that'll change anything. You'll just be wasting your time."
"I've already been spending my time with you, and it's not a waste." You can feel her squeezing you tighter.
Shit, she's got you there. She's been coming over almost every single day, trying to get you to be social. Maybe if you let her call you a friend, she'll stop coming by so often.
Strangely, you hope that doesn't happen.
"At least try it. Please?" Pinkie's voice wavers.
You don't want her to start crying again. Crying Pinkie isn't something you're comfortable with.
"Fine," you sigh, placing a hand on the mare's head. "But I'm telling you, I don't think anything will change." Instantly, her mane poofs up around your fingers. Her hug turns into a bone-crushing vice.
"Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou! I Pinkie Promise it'll be worth it! I'll be the bestest best friend you'll ever have!"
"Pinkie. Air."
"Oop! Sorry, ehehe," Pinkie giggles as she releases you. Her smile is wide, her eyes are dry, and it looks like she was never upset to begin with. Fucking ponies, man.
You really don't think a friend will magically make you happy, but it's not like you have anything else to do.
"Mmmmmm," Pinkie hums as she nuzzles your chest again. She suddenly freezes, her nose twitching. "Nonny?"
"Yeah?"
"You need a shower, stinky."
For some reason, that makes you laugh. It starts out as a chuckle, and Pinkie jumps out of your lap with a gasp. It gets stronger, and you double over with mirth. You laugh until your sides cramp and your face hurts. You can barely breathe, and you feel tears streaming down your cheeks. Pinkie starts laughing right next to you. Whenever she takes a breath, she snorts, which just makes you laugh even harder. After what feels like hours, you finally catch your breath, a stupid grin refusing to leave your face. At some point, Pinkie crawled back into your lap, or maybe you picked her up, you don't remember. Her eyes are closed and she's hugging you again, breathing normally as if she laughs this hard on a daily basis.
"Pinkie?"
"Yeah?"
"...Thanks."
