Music Therapy

You awake to the sound of wind wisping outside, and the sensation of an aching back. You thought sleeping on your couch was bad. Turns out it's a cloud compared to a hardwood floor.

With the morning sun filtering in through the blinds, you roll onto your side. Eri's apartment is a mess. You saw it for yourself last night, but in the chaos of everything happening, you failed to process the magnitude of just how bad it was. The floor is coated in dust, the kitchen counters are piled high with abandoned dishes, and all her belongings are carelessly strewn about. It reminds you of how you used to live.

The transition to Equestria upended that lifestyle. Now your home is a tiny room, and you don't have much in the way of possessions to clutter it. Truthfully, you're in no position to judge. If you were still on Earth, things would be no different. You want to believe you've really improved, but all this time with Eri has made you realize something.

You haven't changed.

You've just suppressed it. Detached yourself from social spheres. Even if your life was a wreck, no one's there to see it. You're a tree falling in the forest, with no one around to hear.

Except Eri. Now that she's shown up, it's starting to hit you just how loud a sound it makes when you fall. In some sick way, you're falling together. Maybe if you were just a bit stronger, you could help her when she gets down. But with each passing day, it's becoming more and more clear that you're not helping her.

She's getting worse. And it might be your fault.

She confessed last night that she liked the growing attachment. And, to be honest, you did, too. But she was ashamed of it, ashamed of getting close to you. Because you were right yesterday. You can't be a positive presence in her life. You don't know how. She needs a friend who understands boundaries, who can ease her into forming healthy relationships. In nurturing her, you've lost your objectivity. If you ever even had any semblance of it in the first place. But there are no therapists in Equestria. That's why you're here to begin with.

Still, the Princesses are ancient beings of profound insight. They should be able to do more than just some human. But in their infinite wisdom, there was a reason they deferred to you, and you knew why.

Your first night here, after retiring to one of the royal palace's guest bedrooms, Princess Luna stopped by to check on you. In your dream. Under all the stress of your move here, it was no wonder that night held in store one of your recurring nightmares. The one where your attempt succeeds.

You woke up in a cold sweat. Within a minute, Luna was at your door. She didn't know what to make of the scene she saw in there. She couldn't have. She asked you to explain it to her, and still it eluded her understanding. You weren't exactly one to share your dark past, especially with someone you met that very day. But you felt like you had known Luna for years. Because, in a way, you did.

That night, when you saw the sheer incomprehension in her eyes, you realized that none of these ponies would ever understand you. They don't have the capacity to discern the darkness. That's why it was pointless to believe a mare would ever love you, why you never pursued your one true love. As it turns out, you can't be known. Not in any real sense. And that's all anyone really wants. To be known.

All this isn't to say that ponies are incapable of empathy. Quite the opposite. Their naïveté made them creatures of immense compassion. That first night, Luna had a cot brought in so you wouldn't have to be alone. You protested, thinking it would demean her status as a Princess, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She shirked her royal duties to spend the night with you. In her humility, she understood fear, and just how much a simple comforting presence can help.

As you think about it, it went down more or less the same as it did between you and Eri last night. You ended up showing her the same compassion Luna showed you a year ago.

But you never connected with Luna. For all her kindness of spirit, you knew she would never understand the anguish of wanting to die. Even a thousand year torment could not grant her insight into your darkness. Of course, it's apples and oranges to compare your two situations. It's not saying you had it worse than her. It's just that these two beasts are so vastly different as to be incomprehensible to one another.

Princess Luna was your first shot at making a friend here. But the two of you, quite literally, came from different worlds. While you might inhabit the same one now, your minds would be irrevocably bound to the ones you came from. You could never be truly close.

After her, you just sort of gave up. There are a few ponies that you'd call acquaintances. You have a professional relationship with the Princesses. But there was never any point in trying to get close to any of them. Because once they knew you, they either wouldn't understand, or you'd scare them off. Both of them are equally disheartening.

But... Eri understands.

Yeah. She does. That's why Luna asked you to intervene. Not just to help her.

She was trying to help you, too.

You stretch your arms and rise to your feet. Eri's still fast asleep in her bed. For the first time, you see her genuinely at peace.

If she must be doomed to be haunted in every waking moment, then at least sleep allows her some small respite.

You look over her, her body gently rising under the covers with every breath. You know it's weird to watch her sleep, but you can't help it. She's just so sweet.

When the moment of pensive reflection passes, you pick up your pillow and blanket and put them away. It's probably best if you don't stay.

Grabbing a scrap of paper, you write out a note for her.

Eri. I'm heading out, I don't want to linger. Take today and rest. I hope I'll see you tonight at 6, but if you need a night off, I understand. And remember, if you need anything at all, you can come by my office anytime. My job's a joke.
- Anonymous

You affix the note to her fridge and tidy up a bit before heading off, making sure to close the door quietly on your way out.

The stroll to your office is bitterly uncomfortable. It's freezing, and in your fervor last night, you neglected to bring a coat or hat. Above, the sea of clouds is swirling in anticipation, blocking out the sun. The world is ever silent.

Eri shows up a few minutes past six, bundled up to shield herself from the blistering cold.

"Hey," you greet her. "Wasn't sure you'd come."

She pulls off her scarf and hat. "I wanted to see you."

You don't know how to feel about that. Ambivalence. Relief... but also guilt.

She takes her seat, dropping her accessories down beside her. Anxiously, you sit across from her.

There's no ignoring it. Better to just get out ahead of it.

"You want to talk about us?" you ask.

"I do, I just— I don't know what to say."

"Do you think this is unsustainable?"

She looks at you uncertainly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, can we keep this up? I like seeing you, and I don't want it to stop, but I have this gnawing feeling. Like we're headed for something bad. Something big, lurking beyond the fog ahead."

"I know what you're feeling. I can feel it coming, too."

You rub your neck nervously. The stress is mounting. "I don't want to screw this up. The longer this goes on, the more certain I am that I'm going to ruin it somehow."

"Anon, you're not going to ruin anything. I'm the fuck-up here. Just look at last night."

Last night.

"Exactly. If I can't help you, then what good am I? What purpose do I serve in your life besides causing you strife?"

"What good are you?" she disbelievingly repeats your question. "Look at this!"

She pulls her sock off to reveal the bandages underneath. "You did this. You're not always going to be there to prevent my problems, and it's not your fault when I inevitably mess up, but you're there for me when I need you. I'm the one who doesn't deserve you! I make a mess out of my life and you're there to clean it up. I never even have to ask. You just do it. That's who you are. And all the while, I— I don't do any good for you."

"That's completely wrong! Every night you've been coming here. Sitting in this room. Being here with me. No one made you do that. That first night, you could've left and never came back. Hell, you were going to. But I asked you one thing. I asked you, please, don't leave me. And you didn't. You came back. You let me in. Every time I did something weird or uncomfortable, you could have left right there and cut me off. When I came to see you last night, you could have left the door shut. But even when it defies every instinct, every rational calculation, you let me back in. Because you know how much I need it. This whole year I've been lying to myself about how lonely I am. But the truth is, I didn't care what happened to me, until I met you."

Baffled, she lies down on the couch and squeezes her head between her hooves. "Agh, this is such a mindfuck."

"I-I'm sorry."

"No," she mumbles, putting her hooves back down. "It's not your fault. This whole situation is insane. Can we just take a night off? Both stop trying to sabotage this relationship, and just enjoy it for once?"

You sit back in your chair. "Yeah. You know what, that's probably best. This is getting nowhere, we're going in circles."

"I'm not good enough for you, you're not good enough for me, I don't even care anymore. We're here tonight, let's do something together."

"How about some music?"

"Yeah," she says, perking up a little. "But nothing heavy tonight, okay? My head is pounding."

"I figured thrashing's probably out of the question with your hoof. Don't you worry, though, I've got a thousand songs for every mood."

She smiles. "Show me."

You hop onto the couch with your iPod and each put in an earbud. While you look for a song, you sit back against the cushions and she leans against the armrest. Comfy.

You settle on some Weezer, Say it Ain't So.

Not too energetic, but lively enough not to bore her. Confidently, you hit play.

But as the song goes on, you can tell she's not really getting into it.

"Something wrong?" you ask.

She glances away, guiltily. "It's a good song, really. Any other day I might like it, I'm just feeling a little low tonight. That's all."

There's got to be something that'll both soothe her and lift her spirits. Maybe some new wave.

You play some Depeche Mode. Then The Police, and The Cure.

With each song, she gets a little more into it. By the time Friday I'm in Love comes on, she's nodding along and tapping her rear hoof against your leg.

It's insane how quickly music can shift the mood.

When the song ends, she smiles warmly. "That one was fitting. Sounds like he had a crazy week. Like the one we've had."

You didn't even pick up on that. "Yeah. You're right, actually."

But, he was singing about l—

"You got any more soft songs? Like the first one you showed me, last week?"

"Yeah, I do. They're really cozy to listen to, you're gonna love 'em."

You put on Cat Stevens' The Wind. She shuts her eyes and you follow suit, taking in the tranquil guitar.

When that's over, some Fleetwood Mac. Landslide. Lost in the music, she sinks her back lower, sliding her head off the armrest. Her hind legs rest gently on your lap. You're singing along faintly.

Eyes still shut, you slip into a trance. You don't seem to notice when the song ends. Shuffle takes the wheel. Some Neutral Milk Hotel song comes on, you don't really know which one. In your meditative state, only one thing comes to mind. Eri.

The longer this goes on, the more muddied it feels. You don't know how to define the relationship. Your connection to her is so nebulous. She means so much to you, but you just met her. Is it possible you're rushing things? She's a broken pony, every self-inflicted crack now irrevocably tied to your own fractures. She knows you now. There's no going back from that. But if you take a step back, you risk severing those ties, leaving her to break apart like crumbling concrete. It's not so cut-and-dry. Still, you can't deny these feelings. She's—

"Anon?"

"Huh?" You snap back to reality, opening your eyes to see her lying beside you.

"I was just asking how humans dance to these songs."

You finally notice the song playing just in time to catch the end of it. "Oh. Uh, I'm not really sure. It'd be a slow dance, I guess."

She looks up at you. "Will— Will you show me?"

She's asking you to slow dance? She doesn't know what she's asking for. This isn't thrashing. This is different. This is... intimate.

But as you peer down at those innocent eyes, you can't fathom denying her anything.

Gently, you take her front hooves and lead her off the couch. You're sure to grip her bandaged leg lightly. She must still be sore. Your other hand brushes against the rubber band she still bears.

The next song to come on shuffle is Transatlanticism, a Death Cab For Cutie classic. Like it knows what you're about to do.

As the piano begins, she stands uneasily on her hind legs, letting you guide her as she finds her footing. Gently, you sway back and forth, tenderly holding her front hooves. The two of you listen silently to the mellow lyrics of the first verse, serenading you through the earbuds.

Through the second verse, you lead her gently across the room, carefully stepping in time with the song.

"This is how humans do it?" she asks quietly, keenly watching your feet as you lead.

"Kind of. We're a little taller, so we'd stand closer. Arms around each other. I'd have to hold you up to do it that way."

"So do it," she whispers boldly, gazing up at you.

You look back at her apprehensively. The last time you tried that nearly ruined everything.

"It's okay, Anon," she reassures you, almost knowing what's holding you back. "I promise."

Now in the refrain, you lean down and lift her up gently. Deliberately. Thoughtfully. Not at all like last time.

She drapes her forehooves around your neck while you support her body. Through the earbuds those sweet words are practically whispered into your ears.

I need you so much closer

I need you so much closer

Her warmth bleeds into you as you press her against your frame. It's more a hug than a dance.

As the song draws on, you begin to sway again with her in your arms. She shuts her eyes and rests her muzzle on your shoulder.

In this moment, it is the perfect song. Slow and long. Right now, you're happy. You don't remember ever being so happy. Not joy, or ecstasy, but peace. Genuine contentedness. You might be the one holding her up, but she's the one keeping you safe. You don't want it to ever end. You want her in your arms forever.

I need you so much closer

I need you so much closer

Tenderly, she rubs the side of her head against your cheek, almost nuzzling you. You can feel her mane against your ear. It's a little greasy, but even that is kind of endearing. If anyone deserves to be cut a break, it's her. She's been through hell these past few days. She deserves some small comfort. All you want is to comfort her.

Swaying along to the music, you lose yourself in the sensations of her. The placid breaths in her breast, her hind legs wrapped tightly around your ribs, the softness of her coat melting between your fingers.

So come on

Come on

It's almost as if he's singing the words specifically to you. Like he wants it to happen as much as you do. "Come on, Anon."

After what feels like an eternity, the song eventually fades, leaving the two of you in adjacent silence. Eri pulls her head back to meet your eyes. This is the closest you've ever been.

Tension hangs in the air as you stare deeply into each other's eyes. This is another silent moment, the kind of silence you like. No words needed, just endless thoughts of each other. You, wondering what's running through her mind. Her, wondering what's running through yours.

Her face is only a couple inches away from yours. You can practically feel the heat emanating off it. You're so close, it'd be so easy to just...

Before anything can happen, the fleeting moment's immediately cut short by the next song. The intro to Jesus of Suburbia blasts your ears, startling you both. You nearly drop her in surprise, but catch her just in time.

When you both regain your senses, you can't help but share in a laugh upon realizing what happened.

Carefully, you lower her back to the ground and pull your earbud out. "That was certainly someth—" You turn to the window, interrupted by the rattling of the wind against it.

Eri pulls out her own earbud and smacks herself in the head. "Shit, the storm, I totally forgot it was tonight."

Only just now are you two noticing the downpour of snow going on outside.

"I better go now, before it gets worse." She returns to the couch to retrieve her scarf and hat.

"At least let me walk you home."

"Anon, it's crazy out there. No point in making you walk to my place and back."

"I don't want you to go alone."

She looks up at you hesitantly before agreeing. "Alright. Let's hurry."

Quickly, you both bundle up for the trek. On the way out, you hold the door for her.

Immediately, the gales batter you both, slamming you with a dense wall of ice. Your scarves whip around in the wind.

"What a mess!" she yells. "I can't believe I forgot about the weather alerts."

"It's my fault, too. I've been caught up in the stress of the last couple of days." You look down at her fondly. "I'm glad you're okay, though."

You trudge onward through the storm. It's still a few minutes to her home.

As you walk, you glance back at your footprints in the thick snow.

Two tracks. Hooves and feet. It's stunning just how dissimilar they really are. Different shapes, different strides. They shouldn't look so good together.

But they do.

The streets are barren, illuminated faintly by the lamps lining each building, devoid of a single soul beyond the two of you.

Hauntingly beautiful.

"Thanks for the distraction tonight," she says, raising her voice slightly over the wind.

"You were right. It was good for us to take a night off from the constant worrying and just live in the moment. I haven't done that in so long, I forgot what it's like."

"And I learned another dance. I didn't do much, but—" Eri yelps as she trips and stumbles forward, falling flat on her face.

Immediately, you descend on her, helping her back up.

"What the hell was that?" she asks, brushing the snow off.

You glance behind her to see an unnaturally deep hoofprint among the rest. "Just a pothole in the road. Hidden under the snow. You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," she insists. "Thanks for the help."

Still kneeling beside her, you softly stroke the length of her mane.

She jerks her head back and blushes at you, partly from the cold, partly from surprise. "W-What are you doing?"

You chuckle at her bewilderment. "You have some snow caught in your mane."

"O-Oh," she stammers, nervously brushing her hair to clean it out.

You pat her head affectionately and stand up. "Come on. Let's get you home."

She continues trotting along at your side, as best she can through the deep snow. You briefly entertain the idea of carrying her home.

But that would be too much, wouldn't it?

Eventually, your frigid journey comes to an end, once you reach her apartment.

She fumbles with the door before opening it and turning back to you. "You should come inside. Maybe I can make you something to warm up."

You hesitate before answering.

You want to accept. You really do.

But you know why you can't.

"Nah, I'm okay. I should head home."

"Oh," she whispers, a hint of disappointment in her tone. "I just feel bad, making you come all the way out here."

"It's okay. It was my idea. I wanted to make sure you got home safe. Mission accomplished."

"Thanks, Anon. For everything."

"Of course. Will I see you tomorrow?"

She smiles at you. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

You squat down and hug her goodbye. Her hoof lingers around your neck a bit before finally breaking away.

Once she shuts the door, you steel yourself for the return trip.

The walk home in solitude is a bitter one. You follow the pair of tracks back, your feet retracing only one set of them, the other set left to be forsaken. Forgotten. Steadily disappearing before your very eyes, as the unrelenting snowfall fills it in, wiping it from the earth's memory.

The storm eases up a bit, but somehow, you can tell that it's not over.

The worst is yet to come.

Thinking back, you're so torn. You almost accepted her offer. But you knew what that meant. It would mean admitting that this is real. And the moment it becomes real, one way or another, it will be ripped away from you. From her. It crushed you to have to turn her down. For her, you'd do just about anything.

There was only one request in the world that you would deny her.

You wouldn't dare hurt her.