Remembrance For Failures Like Me Is Nonexistent.
Not many ponies would ever favor being out in the rain, and only the daring would ever brave the seemingly ending and unforgiving torrent of rain that invaded Ponyville today. The rain was so thick that it created a misty fog that seemed almost dream-like in its own right. A kind of rain that would seem calming for the most troubled of souls, or the most eccentric of personalities. For without rain, there was no tranquility to keep the hurried mind at bay.
Or there was no crops to grow or wildlife to be birthed, of course. Button Mash had enough sense to know that.
"It's a bit sour," softly said Button to himself. "Could use some sugar." His wiry hoof reached to a nearby jar of sugar he purchased a day prior, when it was just a pleasant sun shower outside. The old chair he managed to take away from the late middle-aged Mr. and Mrs. Cake for about three bits three years back creaked as he leaned his body slightly to reach for the jar of sugar. A small click from the latch guarding the glass jar of sweet unhealthy powder gave it's audible clue that it was now open, which to change the topic in his head, it wasn't powder now that he thought about it. He knew it wasn't, but it just seemed right to call it that after it's many years of keeping him company during days like these.
His small house was silent, the rickety table he was currently using and the one raggedy chair he was occupying had served him his solitary solace for three years. The only sound he heard was his hoof grabbing a nearby metal spoon to serve sugar into his cup of tea which had clinked against the rim of the ceramic cup before being clumsily exported into the cup's contents made Button's lips purse and his mind curse him. You disabled cow, he thought bitterly. He frowned softly, quietly mixing the sugar with the tea with his spoon before his thoughts consumed him further. An eyebrow twitched upwards briefly in thought. Why couldn't I just be smart or as cool as the other guys? Just like that, his eyebrows creased low in sorrow. Was it because I was really that much of a loser? No one really wanted to look at me. But her... He had to stop, now.
Sweetie Belle gave up on him. If the one thing he could find solace in his life when he was a teenager, it was her. She gave up on him because she had no idea what else to say, do, or think about and for him. As high school ended and her music career took off, her visits to ensure he hadn't done anything.. bad had been less and less. Rumors from magazines and gossip mares that she found a stallion to confide in. Somepony that wasn't Button.
His eyes drifted towards the window he positioned his seating area by, which was being endlessly rained on with a considerable amount being a resident in his window sill, adding in the murky distorted feeling the window gave to him; a distorted and twisted mug of himself stared back as he glanced into it. A perfect representation of who he was now. A muddled, failure version of himself. Nopony ever dared talk to him lest Sweetie or her old Crusader friends added him part of their fun conversations that soon turned dull or awkward whenever they made him step up to the plate, hooves shaking and eyes like pinpricks. Why did they ever hang out with me? I was a nobody and a deadbeat.
He brought the teacup to his lips after setting the spoon down nearby the jar where a torn single square of paper towel was. Any residue of the tea immediately stained the perfectly white square, which caused Button to feel even more heavy in his chest as he swallowed the small portion he drank. He lowered the cup, placing it on the table as he stared at the paper towel, his snout twitching with an itch that he scratched by wiggling his nose around, all the while staring at the paper towel.
With the small stain of brown on the white paper towel, memories came flooding back to him, almost instantly making him want to stop thinking.
Button remembered the first night back when him and Sweetie were romantic interests. Seven years ago, he could still remember her velvety soft fur, those intoxicating eyes that shimmered like diamonds and those unforgettable beautiful locks of purple and pink. They made love and she professed herself his second player to everything. He huffed out of his mouth bitterly, whipping his head away to stare at the empty space across from him.
Just like that, a chair that she definitely would've loved came to his imagination as it materialized before him, Sweetie Belle with it. The chair was a special kind of crafted wood, with roses engraved onto the sides of the finely smoothed wood and with a plush chair pillow behind her to support her back which you've come to tease in the past was only short, which always prompted a bop on the nose from her. Drinking tea while she talked your ear off about her last tour, and the fillies and colts she adored along the way. Her beauty before Button was astounding, her mouth moving in a gentle show that he had only been privileged to see, and a gentle song that was her voice only the luckiest stallion in the world could hear. "Sounds like you had fun, honey," Button Mash heard himself say to the nothingness as it had all faded away as soon as he realized he said that.
Even he evaluated himself and discovered his posture more confident and eager, which was quickly and almost immediately replaced by his usual slump. His face had a pleasant smile to it, before being washed away with melancholy and a feel of longing. He blinked, not even recognizing the magazine that had somehow popped into existence just within leg's reach. So blind it's no wonder she left you, Button voiced in his head once more before grabbing it. Didn't take too much skill to open it and see the first thing he dreaded to see.
Picture of Sweetie Belle with some head honcho of some fitness and modeling company who was WAY out of Button's "Stallion Attractiveness" league. If he was a mare he'd probably want to rut his brains out was how great he looked. Heck, he even blew Big Mac out of the water in body fitness - not to mention it was a modeling shoot photo-thing. Sweetie's voluptuous body just seemingly paired perfectly with the stud that she was "confirmed to be sleeping with" as the caption below it says.
Button Mash wasn't just a gamer to Sweetie Belle back when his downfall started and he began to wise up, he was an oracle of advice and calming when she didn't know how to deal with her fame and the stress of being so active, not to mention before that with high school being so rough during their last year. Spending so much time playing games, reading character's information articles and their way of life (not to mention the game creators and politics he sometimes browsed upon from time to time, also not to mention world tragedies and patterns he began to see in the world) gave him a pretty knowledgeable head on his shoulders. However, like every other "genius" of times past, present and future, they couldn't apply it to society.
So Button sat here every day, drinking tea and watching his hopes for happiness swim away like a gentle breeze that he didn't mind watching go. His princess had left his castle in search of one that would be worth something in this world, and even as he felt the effects of the lethal herbs and poison in the tea take their time in his system, he couldn't help but think of how Beautiful the Rain was.
And then he drifted off, content with how his tour around the world ended. The curtains fell, and his breathing slowed...
and he never heard the soft rapping on his door a few seconds later with Sweetie's voice saying "Hello?" through the door.
Author's Note
depression isn't easy to fight. and it isn't easy to win. most of us don't win.
