Writing on bathroom stalls is strangly cathartic
The birds whistled in the trees, and the summer breeze was gently laughing across the golden spired rooftops of Canterlot. Pastel clouds streaked across the azure sky, stained salmon pink from the gently setting sun. Monsoon’s blue eyes blinked stupidly as he stared out the window, orange flecks of colour imitating the thin, wispy clouds on the horizon. He imagined in that split moment he was strafing across the sky far away from the city, wings spread wide across the horizon, the warm summer wind snapping against his face. The sound of a pony clearing their throat grounded his galloping daydreams, and with a slight sigh he turned away from the window once more.
He fidgeted with his hooves as he turned back to face the therapist, flicking his head ever so slightly as dark purple bangs fell across his muzzle. She lowered her eyes to meet his gaze, her black rimmed glasses falling slightly down her nose. Her horn lit up with a gentle green glow, carefully lifting a glass of water to her lips. Monsoon waited patiently, trying to avoid eye contact as she set the beverage back down.
“So” She spoke, her voice shattering the silence that had settled in the room. “What happened?”.
“I…”, Monsoon began talking, but quickly trailed off as his mind went blank once again. He twirled a lock of his mane in one hoof, preferring to keep his eyes trained on this rather than the therapist. He still didn’t know why he’d bothered to show up. It wasn’t like talking through any of this would bring him back, or make it hurt any less. He flicked his eyes up towards the therapist, who was patiently waiting for him to start speaking. He quickly diverted his eyes once more, letting out a long, pathetic sigh as his hoof dropped to his side once more.
Poisonous thoughts flowed freely through Monsoon’s mind, forcing the pegasus to clench his teeth as he relived the past few weeks of his breakup. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this, and more importantly, he didn’t have the time to waste on stupid emotions. He’d already spent too many days away from the hospital, not to mention he was beginning to seriously fall behind on his studies.
“Monsoon?” the therapist interjected, cutting through his racing thoughts. Monsoon looked up, trying to collect his thoughts together. “Tell me what happened”, she added, lifting her glasses in her telekinetic grip to rest just above her horn.
“I left him” Monsoon finally spoke, his voice cracking ever so slightly at the end as he struggled to maintain any sort of composure. He gently flicked his loose bangs from his eyes, a faint smile forming on the edge of his lips as he continued, “I finally left him”. He looked up from his hooves, his moist blue eyes finally meeting the therapists own cold, steel orbs. She nodded her head ever so slightly, silently signaling for him to continue talking.
“We… We were fighting, I can't remember about what now. I think he’d forgotten to pick up something from the store that I'd needed after work, and I sort of just… snapped”. Monsoon stuttered, wings gently fluttering against the back of the chair before continuing, “Like, this was the final straw, you know? We started shouting, and I was following him through the house as he tried to get away from me”. Monsoon sniffled as a familiar sad smile curled round the edges of his lips.
“And what happened next? “ Asked the therapist, leaning forward slightly as she strained to listen to the pegasus stallions stifled words.
“He finally gave it back to me” Monsoon replied with a chuckle, letting his head roll back on the top of the chair, the bleak tiled ceiling drifting in and out of focus as his eyes glazed over. “We both said a lot, but… there was one thing he said that kind of… I don't know, finally struck me”. He finished, gently blowing a loose purple bang away from his face.
He finally lifted his head up, facing the mare sitting across from him dead on. The therapist waited patiently, her features neutral and unreadable. Silence hung in the air between the two, a slight raised eyebrow finally prompting Monsoon to break the deadlock.
“He told me he didn't… um… didn't love this side of me” He finally spoke, his voice cracking softly at the end. “And it finally hit me, that there was no more fight left in me, that… that I was done”. He looked up towards the therapist, who was gently nodding as he spoke.
He continued, “Somebody told me once, that if you love someone, then you love all of that pony. You don't get to pick and choose the par-”.
“Monsoon” the therapist interrupted, cutting the stallion off before he could continue his sentence. “what is love to you? “.
Monsoon stopped in his tracks, the question briefly stunning him. He stumbled over his words, struggling to form a reply. “What?”, he finally managed to stutter in reply, sitting upright in his seat to more properly face the mare.
“What is love, Monsoon”, She repeated, briefly pausing to take a note before continuing. “How would you define love, in your own words”.
Monsoon sat dumbstruck for a few moments, his mind flying through emotional gymnastics, wrestling with the therapist's question. He tapped his hoof against the smooth carpet in quick jerky movements, a nervous tick he’d picked up from foalhood. The therapist sat calmly across the desk, silently tapping her pen against the thick notepad as she waited on his reply. His mind was virtually a blank slate as he ran her question through his mind over and over. There was only one image he was able to pull from his collection of memories that came close to what he’d been asked.
“I…” he began, holding his agitated hoof to the ground as he spoke up, “I’m not really sure how to answer” he giggled quietly, before silencing himself to continue. “All I’ve got in my mind is him”. He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye as he blinked. The therapist began to form a reply, before Monsoon interrupted her. “Actually, that’s a lie” he blurted out, smiling nervously as he tried to choose his wording carefully.
“A few weeks before we broke up, I got home late from work one night” he began, gently flicking his loose bangs behind his ears as he continued, “Nothing particularly exciting happened at work, and most of my cases were fairly easy, day to day operations. Anyway, I got back to our house, and was trying to find a book to read before sleeping. Nothing really interested me, so I guess I wasn’t paying too much attention, and outa’ the corner of my eye, I spotted this collection of silly ornaments, like the ones you get in cereal packets”, he finished with a small smirk.
He paused briefly, taking measured breaths as his gaze wandered out the window once more. “It wasn’t anything special, it was just something that he’d done, that he’d placed those toys on the bookshelf just so. And, in that small snapshot, I felt love. For him, for the pony behind that silly and fun decorating”.
He tore his gaze away from the skyline beyond the wide window, and brought his eyes back to the therapist’s face. She was gently scribbling something down, and looked up briefly at Monsoon with a smile. He returned the gesture with one of his own, albeit a small and reserved one.
“And how do you feel about that now?” She asked,adding “in regards to my previous question, that is” setting her pen down and leaning forward ever so slightly in her chair.
“I don’t know” Monsoon began, shrugging his shoulders apathetically. “I suppose now I just feel naive,” he said with a tired sigh. “I associated all of my love with the image of one pony, as if he could possibly like, I don’t know, embrace or embody all love on this stupid planet”. Monsoon paused briefly, his wing tips fluttering in the cool air before continuing. “As if this feeling of wanting, out of seven billion ponies, looks like a black maned unicorn in his early twenties who loves frozen pizza for breakfast”. A slight frown settled across his lips as he finished talking, and he briefly glanced at the scenery outside before continuing. “I guess I woul-”
“What is love?” The therapist interrupted again, this time catching Monsoon off guard. “You’ve told me about moments you’ve felt love, but I want you to tell me what it is, to you”, she finished, shifting her weight to one side in her chair.
“Stop asking me that!”, Monsoon snapped back, feeling defensive as the mare opposite him merely raised her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you!”, he added on the end, his feathers ruffling as his face heated up.
“Just…”, the therapist began, eyes flicking from her notepad to Monsoon’s before finishing, “Just take a moment, and think about it for me, please?” she said softly, noting the stallion’s reaction to her line of questioning.
“Fine, fine”, Monsoon muttered as he fought off the urge to scream. Every nerve in his body urged him to just walk out and leave, but he stayed firmly put, conscious of how many bits he’d paid for this hour. He glared across the varnished desk, holding a penetrating gaze at the therapist. He pushed his lips together tightly, ready to talk, steeling his nerves so as to hide any weak points from the therapist . The mare sat across from him seemed to approve of this change of demeanor, tucking her mane behind her ears as she returned the gaze, eyes carefully scanning the stallion's face for any hint of emotion. She sat up straight in her chair, and pulled herself closer to the desk, as if she were physically getting ready for a conversation about philosophy, or rather frustrations about what love is.
“I don’t think love is him” Monsoon answered in a blunt tone, taking a deep breath before speaking once more. “If he was love, he would be here and stay. If he was truly meant for me, then I wouldn’t be sitting in front of you right now” he spoke slowly, making sure his words came out clear as he kept his eyes locked with the mare’s own. He carried on, “If he was love, then everything would be pretty damn simple”.
Monsoon noticed a slight change in the therapist's demeanour, and relaxed his glare in tandem with the mare. “I don’t think love is him anymore, and... I don’t think love is something I ever wanted”. He blinked away the beginnings of tears, shaking his mane out behind him as he spoke. “I was… I was ready to give into someone who seemed bigger than me, and by doing that, I… I guess I was blinkered? I could barely see another pony that might have been suitable for that role in my life”. Monsoon paused again, looking towards the therapist for some sort of reply. She gently motioned her hoof with a spin, signaling for him to continue. She gave him a reassuring smile.
“I… I did everything in my power to make him a part of me”, Monsoon spoke in a strained voice barely above a whisper, forcing the mare to lean forwards across the desk to hear his next words. “I gave all of myself to him, and all he would do is take and take from me. I guess…”, he paused briefly, taking a few moments to collect his thoughts before continuing. “I guess this started changing my outlook on life, until I believed that only his eyes could truly see me, that only his hooves could feel me”, he wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye, before adding, “But that was never the real truth, and living like that only... drained me”. Monsoon finished speaking, feeling strangely lethargic from his realisation.
“So, how do you feel then?”, the therapist asked once he had finished speaking, crossing her hooves on the desk in front of her while sporting a small smile aimed at Monsoon.
Monsoon looked up from his hooves, a slight smile curling round the edges of his face even as he blinked away the beginnings of tears. “Well, I feel like a piece of shit”, he quipped in a more upbeat tone, contrasting the previous mood that had been set. “And…” he added, stretching out the word as he flicked his mane to one side, “I think now, that maybe, a lot of ponies have misunderstood this question” he finished talking, taking a moment to enjoy the soft warmth of the setting sun that enblazened his blue fur with a golden shine.
“Go on…”, the therapist spoke, a slight glint in her eye as she briefly scribbled one last note.
“The answer. To your question that is”, Monsoon began, finding his spirits lifting as the words continued softly flowing off his lips. “We all...we think we have to look for something, or some special place. Someone has to hit on us as we leave the elevator or sit in a cafe reading, that someone will appear at the end of a section in a bookstore, and that this pretty stranger will be a perfect combination of sexuality and intelligence and that they’ll mirror our own feelings”. He stopped for a beat, as a toothy smile peeked out from his face while he tried to choose his next words.
“I think now that... I think that love starts with everything else”, he continued as the therapist listened closely. “It just desires, needs and fantasies, but it can’t begin to grow if we don’t look back at ourselves, and learn to be in love with ourselves first. You need to fill yourself up with love, before you even have the chance to truly know and love another pony”, Monsoon said softly, gently tapping his front hooves together as he continued speaking.
“I need to live for myself again…” he said in a slightly louder voice, wrestling with his rising emotions as he continued. “Explore new places, leave notes in library books, dress up for myself, give to strangers. Start doing all those silly and fun things I did when I was younger”.
“I think I understand your question now,” he added, maintaining eye contact with the mare across the desk. A wide smile cracked across the mares aging face, and her eyes shimmered with a spark she shared with Monsoon.
“So, what now?” she asked, teeth glinting in the soft golden light as she smirked at the pegasus stallion sitting in front of her. Monsoon remained quiet for a few moments, his eyes fluttering around the room before settling on her pen pot, in particular honing in on a black marker pen. He reached out with a wing and quickly swiped the pen, tucking it behind his ear before replying with a brazen smirk.
“I’m gonna’ go write on your bathroom stalls”.
Author's Note
Happy belated valentines y'all 
I thought I'd write somthing positive for once
