I haven’t thought of you in months. I wonder why now - why of all times now that I’m strapped into the seat, stuffed into this bulky white suit, and staring up at that endless blue sky in the tiny cockpit at the tip of a three-million-kilogram tower of steel and machinery and rocket fuel - do I think about you.
A radio crackles. “This is ACE control room in Hoofston, are you reading us, Solaris 1?”
The captain leans forward to press the transmit button on the dashboard of the cockpit. “We still read you, Hoofston. All systems are still normal. Crew is ready for takeoff.”
“Copy that, Solaris 1. Performing final check on our side and will then proceed to final launch sequence.”
We continue monitoring the instruments, carefully watching dials and lights that measure fuel and assure us that power is going to each system properly. We get regular updates about the weather.
But even now, as much as I hate it, I keep thinking of the day that led to all this and the way you'd reacted to it...
“ACE?? Are you serious?!”
I remember that look. The scorn in your eyes, the raised eyebrow, the hint of a smirk… I remember it all.
“I… I mean, aren’t you proud of me?” I asked. Back then, I really did think that you would be. That finally… finally, you’d see my achievement and congratulate me. You’d hug me, you’d praise me, and you’d kiss me and just once it would be perfect, through and through.
But instead, you just rolled your eyes like always and said “Look… I didn’t say anything when you applied—” except you did “—but this program… you know it’s all a big publicity stunt, right?”
And I almost choked back my words, but instead, I said, “Well… Queen Twilight takes it seriously. She says that ponies could one day spread their magic among the stars if we just take these first few hoofsteps!”
Maybe it was just me being naive. Maybe I’m still being naive.
But after all the effort I’d put into my physical training, into my flying and aeronautics, and everything else that you either greeted with scorn or (if I was lucky) a simple patronizing pat on the head, I still believed what Twilight had to say. I still believed that I could be a part of something great.
No… not just something great. Something greater than myself.
And so I enrolled in the program while you rolled your eyes. I went through the physical fitness testing while you called me weak. I went through the mental trials when you made me feel like I was the most worthless, stupid idiot that ever trotted out of Tall Tale.
You never knew how often I came home and cried myself to sleep when I thought I'd failed my latest trial.
No… no, you did. You just kept silent about it.
“Countdown sequence is commencing… T-minus one minute on my mark… mark!”
It’s happening. I can feel the rocket rumble beneath me, before me, all around me…
My mouth goes dry for a moment. Part of me wants to scream. Part of me wants to laugh. And part of me just wants to cry because it’s that part of me that still remembers all the things you said and thinks that I just shouldn’t be here in the first place.
But when I glance to the side, I see my fellow cosmonauts. They give me the same giddy, nervous smiles that I feel on my own face, and somehow it just seems perfect.
“Ready for the biggest trip of your life?” the captain asks.
“We’re just going to space,” I say. “At least one pony’s been to the moon already, right?”
And they laugh, and so do I, and I feel at ease, remembering how Princess Luna had wryly said the same thing to us a few weeks ago before giving us a wink.
“ACE… I mean… what does it even stand for?!” you shouted when I told you the news.
“It’s…” I swallowed, seeing your dull, uncomprehending face - the furrowed brow, the lip curled in a sneer, the way your eyes refused to meet mine - and somehow I felt like I was seeing you more clearly than ever before.
“The Astronautical Cosmonauts of Equestria,” I replied. “I… I mean, I’ve been working with ACE for the last few years now, Corn Row. I've got a shirt and those drink coasters with the emblem on it. It’s not that hard of an acronym to remember.”
You froze. You gritted your teeth and looked away like I’d just struck you. “So, what, you think I’m stupid or something?”
You’d said that a thousand times, and each time I’d said that I didn’t. But I said it again anyway. Once again, my victory became your pity party.
“Corn Row… I could be one of the first ponies in space,” I told him. I managed to smile— no forced myself to smile. “This is important to me. I could go down in history! What we do now… it could really help all ponykind! More than that, it could help all creatures around the world! We could understand so much! Our grandfoals could live among the stars! Doesn’t that excite you? Doesn’t the fact that this is finally happening seem like the most amazing thing that’s ever happened?!”
But you just heaved a sigh. You glossed over all the other things, and the only thing that got you excited was the word “grandfoals,” and that just got you in the mood.
“Grandfoals, eh?” you said, grinning and striding up to me. And then you whispered in my ear, “Well, if you want grandfoals, then we’ll need to take a few steps first.”
And, at first, when you were kissing my neck and holding me close, I wanted to give in just like always. Those were the times when I really felt close to you, and all the hurt and strife just faded into the background as I lost myself to the physical euphoria.
But that time, I shoved you off of me.
“Corn Row, this is serious!” I shouted. “Today is one of the greatest, most important days of my life! Can’t you… I mean, just for once, can’t you say that you’re proud of me?! Just once?!”
I saw that wide-eyed look. I saw that frustration when I pushed you away. And when you rolled your eyes and walked away as I poured my heart out to you… yes, that’s when I knew that my parents and friends were right: you really didn’t care about me at all. You just wanted a pretty mare who worshipped the ground you walked on, met your physical needs, and gave you all the emotional validation you needed.
Me? My dreams? My hopes and ambitions for ponykind?
If it wasn’t about you… then, as far as you were concerned, it was just meaningless.
You probably expected me to follow you. You probably expected me to cry, to apologize, maybe even finally quit my job and agree to live on our little farm so you could have a hot meal every night and make me pop out a few foals in a few years so you could finally feel like a big, important stallion.
You didn’t know that I’d seen you. The real you.
You thought I was joking when I started to pack my saddlebags. You baited me with your jokes and remarks. You laughed and sneered, but then you started to sweat when I didn’t back down. And then you begged me to stay, tried to bargain and offer me promises we both knew you couldn’t keep, and then you cried to make me stay.
“Stellar!” you shouted from the front door as I hoisted my bags on and spread my wings. “Stellar Skies, where are you going? What about us? What about the farm? What about me?! What am I supposed to do without you?!”
I didn’t say anything back. If I had tried to say anything, I’d most likely have just burst into tears.
“You know you’re being selfish!” you screamed. “Y-you… you’re lucky to have me! You’ll see! You’ll come back once you realize this is where you belong! You hear me, Stellar?!”
I heard you. I heard your voice echo out over the darkened fields that night. I heard you continue to shout as I galloped down the dusty dirt road and took off into the cold evening air, knowing I was leaving our farm behind for the last time. Out of your sight, I finally allowed myself to cry, and I could barely see through my tears. That cowardly little part of me told me that I didn’t even know where I would go and begged me to turn around and beg for your forgiveness. But I didn’t.
Instead, I ascended, going higher and higher until I couldn’t hear your shouts anymore. As I rose, I gazed up into the clear night sky and my vision filled with the ocean of stars above, each one shining brilliantly on its own, and somehow that kept me moving forward.
And while my heart was breaking, and terror was whispering your words in my ear at each step, I still went to work the next day.
And the next.
And the next. Day after day. And with each step and test and diagnostic, I felt like my own heart was getting a new voice. It spoke louder and louder and, one day, your voice just went silent inside my head.
“T-minus 30 seconds…”
Part of me mourns that you could not… would not be part of this day. Part of me mourns that you couldn’t just say “Stellar Skies, I love you, and I’m so proud of you.”
But that part of me stays behind today. The dark parts of me that want you back? They belong on the ground while I fly higher than any pegasus ever has.
“T-minus 15…”
My heart is thundering against my ribcage. I take a few deep breaths to keep myself calm.
My fellow cosmonauts give me a grin and I return it while the world around us rumbles as if the earth itself was trembling with anticipation. We pull our sun visors down.
“And t-minus 10… 9… 8… 7…”
I close my eyes. “Goodbye,” I whisper, and this time I know for certain that it means forever. And it feels more joyous than I had ever imagined.
“3… 2… 1… ignition!”
The rocket shakes and my hooves dig into my seat. The instruments all around me measure everything that’s happening, and while the rocket roars, the sky seems to crash down, growing darker and darker until the stars shine through the daytime blue.
Somewhere far below me is a sad, lonely pony who could not take joy in any but himself. I let him go, and focus my eyes on the stars and the beautiful future they promise.
Author's Note
Thanks for reading! Also, shout out to some of the Sofas and Quills Speedwriting group that originally provided feedback on the rough draft!
This story goes out to all you folks who nurture that spirit of discovery, and to those of you who feel like you're never good enough. Rest assured, no matter who you are, no matter what anyone says, you are worthy to be part of this tapestry we call life.
