Abstract Love

by Faedelaide

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Profanity, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Original Character
Length: 10072

What else is there to think of in death than everything you did wrong in life?

Spiral Wave has definitely seen better days. Personally, he hadn't expected today to be his last day, but few ever really do. Now, in the limbo between life and death, and uncertain as to what will happen to him now, Spiral sits and reflects on his life, and how he might've done better... If only he knew.

Published 2022-07-26 17:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-09-03 16:36:20 UTC

Man, What a Sadsack, Right?

Oh.

Oh?

Uh oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. I think I'm dead... At least... at least I think I am.

Am I dead? I don't... feel dead, but this place definitely doesn't seem like the kind of place anyone alive would willingly visit. Well that's a bit of an exaggeration, I'm sure some bumbling idiot would bounce right into any black void that showed itself just for kicks. I wouldn't for the life of me, but it seems like that is quite the ironic choice of words in this instance, cuz I'm almost definitely dead.

Well, if death is one thing, it's definitely... underwhelming. I mean, I wasn't really expecting an army of a hundred golden ponies blowing deafening, sterling trumpets in my name or anything like that, but I would've preferred more than...this.

It definitely isn't much to look at. I guess the best way to describe it would be kinda... black, I guess? That's really the best way to describe it, it's just a black meadow with black trees who's black leaves are swaying and dancing on a black summer wind underneath a bright black sun. Pardon my poetic license but yeah, in case you couldn't tell, I don't much care for it. It's tremendously boring. The only thing I really can do here is talk. Talk and think. Great.

So what am I supposed to do now? Do I just sit and wait for Celestia or any of those so called "gods" to pick me up and send me to Valhalla or whatever? Now that would be something to see. Everyone knows that one pony who's all "Celestia will save us, and she will scorn the non-believers," but I always thought they were crazy. Wouldn't it be just the funniest thing if they were right all along? How ironic would it be if Celestia just swoops down from the heavens, takes my hand and says "that's what you get for not believing, idiot," and then tosses me into eternal fire? That'd be funny.

I'd deserve it anyway.

And listen, it's not like I'm like "OH I'M USELESS, I'M A FOOL, I DESERVE NOTHING BUT PAIN AND SADNESS," Cuz I don't. I deserve happiness as much as the next pony, and I was far from some useless sack of potatoes on the side of the road. I mean hell, I was an artist, and a darn good one at that. My work was known all throughout Equestria. I was going to live in the nicest canterlot suites available. Every day was a shower of luxury and praise that I earned all on my own. Well, not ALL my own, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

The point is I'm not depressed, or I wasn't when I was alive. I wouldn't call my current state depressed but... whoof... doesn't feel very good. I guess I should've expected it. I mean, if this is Celestia's way of punishing me for not being devout enough for her, it just might work. I think I heard a saying that the most dangerous prison one could be lost in is their own mind, and There isn't really anything else here. Just me, my big mouth, and my overactive head. Oh well.

What did I do to deserve this? That was an easy one. Again, not depressed, just being realistic here. So, a lot of ponies who put their faith in you-know-who-not-gonna-say-her-name-in-case-she's-actually-a-god believe that your job directly contributes to where you end up in "the afterlife". Yeah, some afterlife this is. Anyway, they say that you have to work hard and contribute to society to earn your place in you-know-who's pearly gates. Well that was some horse shi-uh... nonsense. Of course their rhetoric is as old as sun momma herself, so most of it's antiquated and archaic as is. Then they start shouting at artists, musicians, y'know, cultural influencers and the like. I remember a bunch of them taking jabs at Princess Bookworm a couple years back. A couple years back before I died. Obviously. Anyway, they shouted left and right at anyone who didn't follow their code to the period mark. But I mean, look where I am now. Tell me this isn't the purgatory of someone who didn't do enough in his life to help others, and now he's going to be left helpless in a black void as recompence.

Or maybe this was a specific punishment by the princesses themselves. You might've picked this up, but I don't exactly hold very positive feelings for the royal family. I mean, it's not a little suspicious that all four of the princesses are related in some way? I know Cadance is Big C's niece, and Luna is Big C's sister, and Twilight is Cadance's sister, so that makes Twilight like a second niece to Miss Sunrise, right? I mean, I don't really care about their nepotistic tendencies all that much, but the least they could do is actually TRY and make the world a safer place. When I was alive, I felt like there was some assault on the city almost every week. Changelings, dragons, some "Terrible Trio" or whatever that whole situation was. It was pretty annoying for someone with lots of incredibly valuable and fragile items on him. Whatever, it usually wasn't that big a deal, I mean the invasions usually never lasted more than an hour, but sometimes they were awfully destructive.

I remember when the... I think they were the Mean Three actually. Yes, that's what they were. When the Mean Three ransacked Canterlot, they destroyed a nearby art museum. You can guess what this meant for me. Hundreds of priceless pieces were irreversibly destroyed, and some of them were my own. I was crushed when that happened. All I could paint for the next week was... oh...heh, how ironic. It was black plains with black trees.

Somewhere out there, Sunny C is laughing her ass off right about now. I know it.

...

...

Man, this sucks.

Jeez, Just Can It Already, Will Ya?

Nothing is still happening. I have been here for... well I don't know how long but it's been too damn long. And let me tell you, you know you're dangerously bored when you start playing board games with yourself. With imaginary pieces. And lose.

How ironic is that? I mean, how ironic is this whole situation? A brilliant artist, left to rot for eternity in the single most boring purgatory possible. I mean don't get me wrong, I love Mancala as much as the next pony, but holy SHIT does it get dull fast. And it's not like my opponent's very lively, pun not intended. All he does is tell me how much of a loser I am and how much I failed as a pony. And you know what, call me crazy but he's starting to sound pretty convincing.

Now I was never the kind of kid who compared himself to others. My pap used to tell me it bred contempt and jealousy, so I kept to myself and focused on what was most important: me. Now that worked wonders on my artistic abilities. If I were lucky, I might've gotten into the big leagues before I hit half my pap's age. But I wasn't, so I didn't. It took me thirty years before they'd even feature me in the amateur outlets, and you can imagine what kind of bile was sloshing about down there. Not to be rude I guess but it's true, some of those paintings could've been done by a drunk turtle for all they were worth. I think one of the artists was actually a yak. Poor girl, no thumbs, no fingers, and worst of all, no magic. She essentially had to stomp the paint onto the canvas, and I don't know about you but fingers painting was so last recess. Ugh.

And while thinking about myself and only myself was good for improving my art, you can imagine what damage it did to my social life. Few people talked to me, and even fewer actually did so more than once. I think I might've had some friends if I tried hard enough, but every time one of them opened their notebooks and showed me some stick figures shooting each other, I couldn't help but gag. Loudly. Maybe that was what drove them off, or maybe it was something else. I'm not very attractive, conventionally I mean. I don't have that defined chin or nice flowing hair. I mean, I wasn't Quasimodo or anything, but I certainly wouldn't do a portrait piece of myself, y'know?

So there I was, an aspiring artist in the big city, freshly moved out of his parent's house and ready to take life by the non-existent horns. There was of course only one problem, and that was getting a house of my own. Now I mentioned that I didn't kick off my artistic career until my thirties, so try and imagine what some wannabe Rembray might get for a career.

Yup. Service clerk. Of course.

Should it have come as a surprise? No, absolutely not. But was college age me surprised that my limitless talents were being put to use stocking soup cans and mopping floors? Yes, absolutely. I didn't mind it all that much though. Sure, living in Canterlot was expensive, and noisy... and rife with muggings, but Finding a cheap apartment wasn't too hard. The manager and the wages were both pretty good. I managed for a few months, painting here and there. Y'know, the works. And ya wanna know the weirdest bit? So one day, and it's like five months into my job by now, one day some new hire walks in, right? She says her name's Rainfall, Traditional kirin name I believe. And let me tell you she was, well I assume is, pretty. She was probably the best looking mare i'd ever met, though that might've been because I'd never seen a kirin before. Either way she starts working as a service clerk as well. Our schedules didn't really line up too often, and of course I wasn't going to try and make them align. Remember, I was still an antisocial recluse at this point, so my response to seeing a cute mare I might've had a chance with was to make excuses.

"She's probably already got a coltfriend. Maybe she's gay. She's probably gay. She'd turn gay if she looked at you too long," and other similar excuses were all I thought about whenever I managed to stumble across a wayward bout of misplaced confidence. But I guess Celestia was looking down and laughing at me again, cuz maybe a month into her job she goes up to the manager and asks for a pay raise. Now don't get me wrong, I loved Steel Wool, he was a great guy, but damn if the whole store couldn't hear him laughing when she said that. So she explains that she can't afford her apartment, Canterlot rates and all, and Steel Wool shrugs his shoulders, says there's nothing he can do right now, and walks off.

You see where this is going?

Now I must've gotten another one of those undeserved flashes of confidence, cuz I go sauntering over to her and say "Hey, I've got an apartment. If you want, we could share rent and you can get some of the rooms for your own." I don't think it went exactly like that. I probably stammered a lot more, and maybe cried a little, knowing my social skills.

But none the less, she's wiping a tear away from her face and gives me this look like i'm about to abduct her. I don't blame her, My face doesn't exactly scream trustworthy, with my rat's nest of a hairdo and unkempt facial hair. So she stands there for a second, and I could've sworn she was gonna punch me in the head, but instead, no joke, she turns to me and goes "Do you mean it?"

Oh Woe is you, Buddy.

Ba ba ba boo. Dee do dum dee dah.

Oh by Luna herself, just look at me. So degenerated that I'm babbling like a Celestia damned foal. This sucks. Hey that works too!

This sucks.

This sucks.

This really really sucks.

Oh how this does suck.

I'll tell you how it sucks.

...sigh.

Y'know, sometimes I'll be thinking about something, right? I'll be thinking, and then I feel like I'm falling asleep, and then I blink my eyes. No joke, I literally just blink my eyes and it feels like I've just forgotten my entire life. It's so weird. And for one, it certainly makes purgatory a HELL of a lot less entertaining. At least I don't have my own voices shouting about my failures. Now they just shout babble, mostly about how I can't remember my own life. I barely even remember what I was talking about a couple minutes ago. I mean, I think it's been minutes. I can't really tell. Celestia didn't loan me a clock when I entered the spirit realm or whatever this shit is.

What was I even talking about? It had something to do with Rainfall I think. Man, I never really believed in "you don't miss something until it's gone", but I do miss her... Anyway, shut up Spiral Wave. No one wants to hear you mope. Keep telling the story.

So I was guiding Rainfall to my shitty little apartment, right? And it's exactly what you'd expect from a minimum wage artist. It was small, cramped and smelled like hay nine times out of ten, but she said she was fine with it. And at this point I'm still completely floored that she took me up on my offer. Cuz I mean, what right minded person would accept anything from somepony who looks like me? I look like the kind of guy that parents warn their kids about.

But, I mean, it's not like I'm like a creep or something, at least not enough that should make ponies genuinely worried. I'm more the kind of depressing kind of creep, y'know what I mean? The kind that watches couples walking along the sidewalks, and likes to imagine he's one of those two lovers, walking blissfully down the pavement without a care in the world... Cuz he's just so damn lonely. That kind of creep. Not the kind that makes a good friend.

Apparently, it makes for a good roommate though. Course me and Rainfall went through all the necessities. House rules, don't go through the others' shit, fork up your share of the rent, pretty standard stuff. Things went smoothly for a good week or so. We didn't really talk to each other that much inside and outside of work, which was convenient for me. The less possibilities to screw something up with her the better.

What was even more convenient was that I managed to strike a deal with some old coot who owned this big old warehouse, right? Said if I pay him a small amount every month, he'd let me use it as I pleased. That was something I took without a second thought. A place to practice my art, store it all in one place, all without accidentally pestering my cute and kind roommate? It seemed like a deal too good to be true. And it partially was. Little did I know that the old pony who owned the warehouse never cleaned it. It looked like somepony died in there, and I can neither confirm nor deny that I found a leg bone of unidentified origin within the warehouse while cleaning. Yech. And while I could've spent three months cleaning it by myself, I thought I might actually talk to Rainfall for once. Y'know, actually socialize with the pony I was sharing an apartment with. Act like a living breathing pony for a damn change.

I didn't expect her to help me at all when I asked, but she was shockingly receptive to the idea. It seemed that Rainfall put a lot more trust in me than I put in myself, one of the many things that startled and endeared me to her. So I explained the warehouse and that it needed cleaning, and then she does the thing that I knew was coming and knew I was going to dread. She starts asking questions.

"What are you doing with it?" was the inceptive inquiry, the beginning of what was soon going to be an unrelenting torrent of questions, some I didn't have the sense to answer. I tried my best to answer everything she threw at me, but eventually I gave up, and decided it would be best to walk and talk. So we start walking down the street towards the warehouse, and by this time it's... I dunno... late autumn, I think? It's cold, that's the point I'm trying to make here. It's cold, and while we're talking, she slowly starts scooting closer to me. It gets to the point where her shoulder's basically touching mine, and I start having an anxiety attack. Keep in mind I've never been this close to someone who wasn't either family or some asshole on the train, so being this close to someone I admired was a kind of novelty for me. I certainly wasn't prepared for it.

So I scoot away, more because I started breathing pretty heavy in my panic, and I didn't want her getting any ideas that I was creeping on her. She side eyes me and her face twitches a little, but she doesn't say anything. Thank Celestia. Eventually we make it to the warehouse, and I swing open the doors to show her the splendor of my new lent establishment. Again she asks why I wanted this warehouse so badly, and I, not wanting to weird her out with my hobbies just mutter "For art or somethin'."

And I should've expected this, but she turns to me, gasps and nearly shouts, "You do art!?"

Like, Who Even Cares, Dude?

I guess I should take the time now to say that I'm not exactly the most religious pony. I never believed the princesses were goddesses, I kinda thought they just got lucky for the most part. But, if I'm honest, this experience might've made me change my mind. I mean, if there aren't any gods, then what possible explanation is there for me being here, slowly losing my mind?

And I'm not exaggerating when I say that either. Every time I shut my eyes, even for the shortest moment, I forget more things. I don't remember my best friend from college. I don't remember my middle name. I can't remember the name of my own parents.

But, beside it all, I can still remember her. I remember Rainfall, every single moment I ever shared with her. At this point, I don't know if it's a relief or a punishment. But it doesn't really matter anymore. I don't matter. I should just finish my story, what I remember of it at least.

So of course now that she knew what the warehouse was for, and that It was going to be a future art studio, Rainfall was practically buzzing with excitement. To my slight despair, Rainfall's questions had increased tenfold. It got to the point that I actually began writing down questions as we cleaned. It was a nice experience, even if the warehouse smelled like piss ninety percent of the time and Rainfall had to carefully dispose of a dead raccoon. I tried to answer as many of her inquiries as I could, but I could only keep up for so long before I got swept away in the wave. She didn't seem to care all that much though, and her voice was a much needed distraction from our pretty disgusting task. I miss her voice... it seems so distant now... so fuzzy.

By the time we called it a day, the sun was already gone. The Canterlot streetlamps illuminated the dingy street that led to our apartment, and the moon that sat high in the sky cast the city in a romantic blue glow. We were both exhausted, and I was starving. Rainfall obviously felt the same, because as we walk back home, she looks at me and asks, "Hey, I'm starving right now. You wanna get a bite to eat at Hoofington's?"

Now any respectable pony would've retched at the very mention of the greasy, grimy fried food restaurant that was Hoofington's. It's the kind of place some hick pony would take their kids when walking around and yelling at managers got boring. And, as much as I wanted to be nice to her, I told her exactly how I felt about that... establishment. Was it a bit much? Maybe, but I felt it would be best to be honest with her.

So I tell her that Hoofington's is a greasehole full of crazy people, and she starts howling with laughter. She's giggling a storm, right, and I'm standing there thinking I either really screwed up or hit the nail on the head. Then, under the beauty of both the warm streetlamps and the serene blue light of the moon, she gives me a wide smile and says, "Well then we'll get dinner and a meal!"

I think, if I had to pinpoint it, that was the exact moment that I fell in love with her. Sure, I thought she was cute in the month and a half that I'd known her, but it was right then that I realized that I wouldn't mind spending my entire life with her.

So of course we start going over to Hoofington's immediately. In all honesty, I didn't really mind eating greasy food. After all, I'd been living off of cheap grocery store meals for the past half year, so it wasn't too much of a change of pace. Not to mention that Rainfall's comment had me hopeful that I might get to see two customers duke it out while we ate our deep fried hayburgers.

Unfortunately, no such spat happened, but we did get to enjoy some surprisingly tasty burgers. As usual, Rainfall was carrying the conversation throughout most of our meal, but that's not to say I wasn't talking. We discussed our lives before we moved in together, and apparently she was a kirin that was allowed to leave her village after an earth pony and a pegasus came in and saved her people from... silence, I think? Celestia, I can't remember now. What was it..?

Whatever. So we sat at that little table for a good while. I'm trying to listen to what she's saying but I keep noticing that I'm spacing out, taking in every detail of her face. Her curly mane that never liked to stay held behind her ears, her beautiful hazel eyes, even the odd scale or two that stuck out from her snout. I liked to think at the time that I was treasuring my time with her as much as possible, but now I think I probably spent so much time looking at her because then I wouldn't forget her. It's worked so far, which is... good... I guess. Although, now it all feels like it's a dream, and I don't know if any of this is real anymore. How could I tell, there's no frame of reference here, just my stupid, broken head. Or you know what, maybe I really was just a creep, staring at some innocent mare because everyone else knew better than to get close to me. Who knows now, cuz I definitely don't. Though I could probably make an educated guess.

I like to think that she cared for me too, even if it wasn't nearly as much I cared for her. We walked so closely together when we headed back to our apartment. Nothing happened of course, we just went into our separate rooms and slept. That night, I dreamt that I made my father proud.

Do You Really Hate Yourself That Much?

I think the funniest part of this whole scenario is that, if I stayed quiet, if I didn't tell Rainfall anything, maybe things would've turned out better. But who can say for sure? I can't tell the future. I don't think anyone can tell the future, and if they can, I feel kinda bad for 'em. I wouldn't want the pressure of trying to make my future as bright as possible over my head constantly. I mean... I already do, but if I could see the future, I'd only be more likely to fuck it up, which is kinda ironic, right? You'd think if you could tell the future, it'd be easier to put your destiny into your own hands, but then, is it really in your own hands? Is the future of your own making, or are you doomed to repeat the actions of those who come after you?

...Sorry for the tangent. It's ironic that I'm thinking about the future now that I no longer have one. Or maybe I'm thinking of the past now. I don't know. Every word I speak is starting to sound more and more like nonsense and bullshit. It's like speaking a language translated five times over. All the words have lost their meaning. They're just empty, hollow sounds now. I'm just a madman talking to himself in an empty void as he loses himself more and more. How poetic.

I really hate poetry.

Now you might be thinking, "What do you mean Spiral? Things seem pretty good for you right now. You've got a good friend, a burgeoning art career, things are only looking up for you," and you'd be right. But hold that thought and throw it away, cuz once you get out of rock bottom, it's always possible to go back down.

I didn't go down super quickly. In fact, things were pretty damn good for a little while. In the week or two that followed my idea, Rainfall and I began brainstorming ideas. Her visions for the portrait were much more... elaborate than I expected. Now I had no problem with making a complex piece, especially when it meant I got to spend more time around Rainfall, but we were running on a pretty tight schedule. Eventually, Rainfall relented, and we settled on a simple portrait piece. We spent a good hour or two every day working on the piece after we both finished our shifts. I would've spent all night on it, but I needed her in order to finish my piece, and I wasn't gonna deprive her of much needed sleep. She seemed to think the same thing about me, but I was already pretty used to my shitty sleep schedule. She frowned when I said that, and it's only now that I realize just how much she really did care about me. Of course she cared about me. How could I have never noticed? Such a damn idiot.

Whatever. So I finish the portrait, bring it to the interview, and they absolutely love it! If they had any questions readied beforehand, I don't think they bothered to use them. The whole interview was about my piece, appropriately titled Monsoon Maiden, and I told them as much as I thought was necessary. As usual, I'd written out topics and jokes beforehand. I even practiced a few on Rainfall, but she laughed at my jokes all the same, so I wasn't too sure how funny my jokes actually were. Well apparently I needed to be more confident in myself, cuz the interviewers ate it up the whole time. I don't think that interview could've gone any better, and whaddya know, a week later, Monsoon Maiden Is on every art magazine in Canterlot. Hell, even a couple newspapers were talking about the overnight sensation that was Spiral Wave. Next thing I know, I'm the newest darling of the Canterlot art society.

Seizing my opportunity, I start selling all my old pieces. Naturally, investors and art connoisseurs want to get their hands on Spiral Wave's newest work as quickly as possible. Pieces start selling for hundreds at local auctions, then thousands, then tens of thousands. I finally do it. I've made it. I'm successful. I've made my dad proud. The tragedy of it all is, I always had, but it took me nearly thirty years to figure that out. How pathetic.

So I'm starting to do real good for myself. I keep working at... wherever I used to work at, mostly to keep Rainfall company. But then, something pops up. I get home from work one day, shivering like a newborn foal in the winter gale when suddenly, the apartment's looking a bit small for my tastes. I start wanting a house of my own, a place to display my works proudly and openly, not hide them in some dingy factory. Of course, it was a great idea, and one I could easily afford now, but there was one small problem...

It's late in the evening when she gets home. I'm staring at a book about... something... when I hear our old door creaking loudly, marking her arrival. She looks exhausted, and she knew it too, cuz she gives me one passing glance, a wave and a gentle smile, then slams her door closed. It takes all of two minutes for me to hear her start snoring away.

I keep sitting in the main room, staring blankly at the book before me. I stopped reading it a good while before she even got home, just staring at the nonsensible characters and icons scrawled upon the tome's dry, dusty pages. All the while, I can hear my heart pounding in my chest. It's that terror again. That fear of being a failure. But what am I afraid of now? I mean, I'm higher up than I've ever been right? Right, and that's the problem.

There's only one thing I could screw up now. How would I tell her I love her?

I Can't Believe You, Spiral!

I'm losing more of myself. I know, it's par for the course at this point, but... like... can it just chill for a little while? It's so damn infuriating, and I don't even know what I'm angry about. I can barely remember anything anymore. I can't remember my own name. How sad is that, right? What kind of loser do you have to be to forget your own name, and not even be able to do anything about it? The kind of loser that is me... apparently.

Heh, it's funny, All this time, I've been hearing voices in my head scream and scream and scream about everything I've ever done wrong. But the oddest thing is... It's not my voice anymore. It's hers. I haven't spoken in sun-bitch knows how long, but It's never been silent. All the time, I can hear Rainfall's voice... and she sounds so angry, so Irrecoverably irate that it makes me shiver if I think about it for too long. And the worst part is that she's been right this whole time. I am a failure. My parents probably knew it, everyone I'd ever worked for definitely knew it. I just hoped, prayed even, that She of all ponies didn't. But she does. Oh how she knows.

...Y'know, I didn't really wanna think about all of this. I kinda just wanted to drift away into the great beyond or whatever, but it was Rainfall's voice that told me this was what I deserved. This is my true punishment. Slowly, everything that's important to me will blow away in the wind, until all that's left is the broken, empty husk of a pony that used to be somepony. This is my purgatory, and once it's over, I won't even have the mind to realize it. How apropos. I would say I want to die, but all that amounts to is a grim joke, so...

Anyway, on with what remains of my story. Convenient that that's what I remember, isn't it? So it's early in the morning, Rainfall's getting ready for her morning shift, and I'm kind of just lazing around. I wanted to work on one of my latest pieces for an expo in the coming month, but something had me feeling exceptionally distracted. I had to tell her. I needed to tell her, and I needed to do it right now.

I turn to face her, but she doesn't notice. She's doing this cute, squeaky little yawn that she did whenever she was still waking up all the way, so I wait. Telling her can wait for a moment. Then she finishes her yawn, rubs her eyes, grabs her breakfast and heads out the door with a quick "see ya!" It's fine. Telling her can wait till this afternoon.

So I, not having anything better to do, decided to head out to the warehouse to work on my piece. I can't remember what it was, but it doesn't really matter. It wasn't anything spectacular, but at this point nopony cared. It was made by me, and that was what mattered to them.

So I don my coat and scarf and head out on the town. Unfortunately, I barely make it a minute out before I suddenly realize that I'm really cold. I think, and you'll have to take this with a grain of salt cuz thinkin's getting real hard for me, but I think a newspaper labeled it as "the coldest winter since the age of the windigos," which I found kinda funny. Maybe love and friendship was finally starting to run out. All the more reason to believe that Rainfall didn't love me. Whatever, all it means to me at the moment is that I need to start walking faster, lest I end up a pony popsicle on the side of the road.

I toss open the warehouse's doors, and a dozen faces stare back at me. Not like actual ponies, I mean my paintings... if that wasn't clear... I had to tell myself that just now... Anyway my paintings are facing me, and they all tell me the same thing, speaking in Rainfall's beautiful voice with all the harmony of screeching metal.

You're a coward.

You're not worth the air you breathe.

She'll never love you.

You're nothing.

No one has ever loved you.

No one will ever love you.

...Not even yourself.

And you know what, I believed them. I believed her. I don't know what came over me then, but suddenly, I take a new canvas and just get to work on another piece altogether, all while my expo work sits unfinished in its quiet little corner. I suddenly feel alive, more aware than I've ever been before. I don't even pay attention to the painting, I only relax and watch as my hooves dance around in the air, slowly becoming a blur as they toil away faster and faster on the canvas. I don't know if it's because of my forgetting things, or if I genuinely blacked out in this moment, but what I do remember is the mantra that repeated in my head the whole time.

She does love me. I do love myself. If I love myself, then she'll love me too.

Finally, I step away from the piece. The sky outside is pitch black, and I have only the faint glow of the busted ceiling lights to allow me to see the work I had undoubtedly spent the entire day on. It was painful to look at in the first moments I took it in. The colors were so sharp and bright. It was so defined, yet somehow, also completely incomprehensible. It made me feel queasy, but I couldn't help but to keep staring at it. The limbs were off, curling into compact spirals. The eyes appeared more like blisters than anything I'd use to see with. There was so much wrong with it, but I honestly didn't mind.

It was me, myself, and it was beautiful.

Are You Insane or Something?

I need to keep talking. Talking is the only thing that keeps me from forgetting. I can't forget yet. I'm so close, she's telling me how close I am. If I finish my story, will everything finally be over? Will I finally be able to leave this shithole and actually die? I don't even care where I'd end up at this point, I just want it to be, oh I don't know, anywhere that isn't here!

Ok ok, where was I? uh... right, ok. So I finished my portrait, it's weird and only vaguely looks like me but It's better than black plains and black trees. It's even odder, cuz I'm not the type of pony who works in the abstract. Usually, I draw what I see and add what I feel later on. If I'm feeling upset, I'll go to a nearby pool or pond and then paint it as a dried up pit. If I'm feeling sad, I'll flood one of my neighboring streets. It's cathartic in a way sometimes. I remember one of my scrapped pieces was of the old building I used to work at floating on a turbulent ocean in the middle of a powerful storm. I knew what I was good at, and I worked with it, but this? This was entirely new to me, dare I say alien. It didn't matter to me though. As far as I was concerned, it was my best piece yet. I loved it, and Rainfall would probably love it too! And if she really did love it, then...

I shook my head. Now was not the time to keep my head in the clouds. I carefully wrapped my painting up and began walking back home. The walk was still pretty short, but it was made faster by the fact that I was practically sprinting home. It was partly because of the excitement bubbling in my chest, but it was also because I was a little scared that my painting would develop a layer of frost if I was outside for too long. By the time I made it back home, my hooves were a shade lighter then when I'd left. I shook off my scarf while still holding the painting in my hands. Rainfall shouldn't have been home by this time, so If I was fast and sneaky enough, I could hide the painting and start writing my confession to her. And if I got extremely lucky, I'd be able to-

"Oh hey Spiral, you're home late! What 'cha got there?"

...Was my name always Spiral? That's a weird name.

NO no nononono keep talking. Don't stop talking, don't forget.

Ok, so I was properly panicking in that moment. For the first time in months, I was completely unprepared. What was I supposed to say now? Was this the time for a joke, or was I supposed to act casual? Now that I was on the verge of a panic attack, I decided to just go with the flow. Y'know, not try and rouse suspicion or anything.

"On the contrary, you appear to have gotten out of work early. Has something gone?"

Yeah, she didn't buy it one bit. "Oh no, you're pulling out the 'public appearances' voice. That means something's wrong. What's going on, dude?"

"Nothing, I am merely holding onto my painting for now while... I finish up another piece at the warehouse."

"Mmm, see I can tell that's not it, cuz A: you're still talking to me like I'm one of those reporters, and B: you're really bad at lying."

She knew me way too well. I'd dare to wager that she knew me better than I knew myself. Considering I didn't have jack shit planned out for a scenario this apocalyptic, I start feeling a sensation in my throat as I draw closer to throwing up from sheer anxiety.

But I can't just clam up now, I have to say something to her. "Ah, well, you know how I am. It's just another piece, don't you worry your fuzzy little head about it, alright?"

"Then lemme see it. I love your works!"

Things started getting dangerously out of hand. I mean, I could show her it, but then I wouldn't be able to control the outcome. I'd spent the last few months of my life living as rigidly as possible, and now, during one of the most important decisions I'd probably ever make, I had absolutely no control over the situation.

I gulp. Loudly. "Listen, I'll show it to you in the morning, ok? I swear to you I'll show it when it's ready, so long as you don't go getting your scaley lil mits all over it, alright?"

She humphs dramatically. She wasn't really that upset, but I think she liked being dramatic to compensate for my near sociopathic personality. "Fine, I'll wait. But I'm holding you to that promise, Spiral. If you don't show me that painting, I'm... not gonna do anything but I'll... uh... I'll talk your ear off! All day! And there's nothing you can do to stop me, mwahaha!"

"Oh yes, quite the punishment, enjoying conversation with my favorite kirin. I might as well just die now."

"Oh you think you're real witty, art boy. I'll show you! I'll talk about really boring things, like taxes, or... ooh, the political climate!"

"Oh Celestia, that is a fate worse than death!"

She giggles again. What I wouldn't give to hear that noise again. "I don't get why you don't wanna show your piece to me though. It's not like you to hide your work from me considering, y'know, I'm in your most popular painting."

"Well, I just thought I'd wait until I start packing up to leave before-"

I try to catch myself, but the words come out too fast. My eyes widen, and I can see hers doing the same.

"What?"

Oh no.

"what do you mean, Spiral?"

Welp, guess this was happening. and it was happening now.

Oh, Spiral...

Well, this situation couldn't have gone any worse. If I wasn't backed into a corner earlier, I definitely was now. She's staring right at me, my eyes wide are as dinner plates, and I can't think of anything to say. I knew then that I had to be incomparably careful with my words, an ability in which I was sorely lacking.

"Where are you going?" she asks. I sensed the change in mood as soon as it happened. She was still optimistic, still willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. Ironically, things might not have gone south so fast if I hadn't acted the way I did. But there was nothing I could do about it now.

I tried to defuse the situation with my endlessly quick wit. "It's nothing, really. Not a big deal."

Wrong answer.

"Is it something to do with that expo you were gonna go to? Why didn't you tell me before hand?" Before I can even answer her first question, more and more start piling up.

It's kinda funny, when this happened, I remember wondering why she cared so much about where she was going, because there was no way she cared about me. Isn't that funny? Doesn't that make you wanna just laugh and laugh until your teeth fall out and your throat collapses? It sure does for me, though I doubt that would actually happen. I'd probably just laugh and scream for all eternity, I could slam my face against the hardest wall there is right now and walk away unscathed. I'm invincible here, untouchable, invulnerable. And of course, I'm only gifted such power the moment I don't need it. If the sun princess... whatever her name is... is one thing, she certainly is cruel.

Once again, I am cursed with having to try and explain myself to her. "Why is it such a big deal, Rainfall?"

"Oh I dunno, maybe because you live here and pay most of the rent. The whole reason I moved in was so I didn't end up on the streets or running back to Rainshine with my tail between my legs! You can't just offer me a room, have me pay my share of the rent for a couple months, then abandon me to fend for myself. I can't afford this place, Spiral!"

I distinctly remember getting a little annoyed at this point. Why was it my business how she lived her life? I mean, what a douche, right? Why would I ever think that about the person I loved? Why did I always have to be such a damn FAILURE?

...You wanna try and guess what I said next? I bet it'll be worse than you think. "It's fine, I can give you some money every month or so, It's not like I'm leaving you completely."

"Right, yeah, ok, I'll just sit around and wait for you to send me some package in the mail with a couple hundred bits in it? Thanks man, you're suuuuch a good friend!"

"Well what the hell do you want from me, Rainfall?"

"I want you to tell me, your housemate and best friend, what's going on! Don't tell me you're this much of a jerk!"

That... that was the moment it all went downhill. Quite possibly, it was the point of no return. Words were said with increasing volume and vitriol. We argued, then we shouted, then we screamed. All the while, I hated that I had allowed myself to get to this point. I don't remember all of it, actually I remember very little past Rainfall's words to me of which I have already transcribed. However, I remember the thing that stole all of my fire instantly. Any rage I had left boiled away as soon as Rainfall opened her mouth and spoke.

"Do you not even care about me?" she asks me, her beautiful eyes full of anger and despair at the same time.

I respond, possibly for the first time this entire argument, from my heart. "Of course I do, Rainfall."

"How much?"

I don't know how to answer, so I stay silent for a moment. Silence wasn't enough for her, however. I watch helplessly as tears start to fall down her face. "I love you Spiral. Please, just tell me..."

I barely hold back a gasp, and nearly trip over myself as I back away slightly. All those months of worrying, of telling myself I wasn't worth her love. I hated myself so much that I couldn't bring myself to imagine her being happy with me... no matter how much I tried.

"Please, Spiral. Do you care?"

This is it. This is the moment I've been waiting for. This right here is the moment where I finally tell her how much I really do care about her, how much I want to be with her forever and never let her feel pain again.

But I bet you can guess what got in the way again... as it always did... always does. I truly did love her from the bottom of my heart, but the only thing that could overpower her feelings for me, and mine for her, was the words that those pitch black hills screamed at me in her own voice.

Nopony will ever love you.

So you know what I did? You want to know the culmination of months of emotional repression? Of course you do, you're just my imagination.

My eyes have lost focus, but I can still hear Rainfall's shaky breaths. Every fiber of my being is telling, no, commanding that I tell her I love her. I straighten myself up, trying to look as presentable as possible, but the words never come out. Inside my head they stay trapped, unable to escape.

I walk up to Rainfall, her eyes still watering. I take a breath, try desperately to say something. Anything.

The last thing I remember hearing is our door click closed... and Rainfall's muffled sobbing from within.

I Guess This is it Then, Isn't it?

When I first showed up here... in this void of mine, I wanted to believe that I was dreaming. I wanted to badly to believe I could get out, that I could see her again and make things right. I can't. I know that now. I should've known it as soon as I awoke here, but call me overly optimistic, naïve, or just plain stupid, cause that's what I am.

When I awoke, the first thing I remembered was the cold. I'd left Rainfall's house with nothing but my coat to take with me. I remember walking for a while, not caring about the freezing wind blowing through my hair. People stared at me as I walked, some in wonder and recognition, others in concern and sympathy. I didn't bother to look up from the icy sidewalk as I journeyed on. I think I eventually made it to a train station or something of that sort. I walked past the ticket booth, into the station area and sat... and waited. I looked at my hooves, and I couldn't shake this feeling of... lifelessness in that moment. I don't remember hearing the train's whistle, nor the talking of nearby ponies. I do remember the cold slowly beginning to fade away, and the sky darkening with each passing minute. But weirder still, The figures around me began to swirl and twist out of the corner of my vision. I turned to look at them, but they were blurry, undefined. It almost looked as if they were ghosts, stuck in limbo and waiting for their judgement. Perhaps I was there as well, just waiting for the powers that be to send me away to my eternal damnation. Who knows at this point?

That was the first memory I ever had when I arrived here, and now it's the only thing I have left to show I ever truly lived. I can't remember her name, I can't remember her face, I don't think I even know who she is anymore. All I know is now is her voice, and that I miss her... so much.

Oh what have I done? What did I DO!? Is this why I'm being punished? I know I won't get any answers no matter what! Is this what the gods want from me, to sit around like some miserable fucking maggot until I finally keel over? Huh!? Go on "god" or whatever the hell you are, why don't you go ahead and tell me what the FUCK is wrong with me? But you won't! You never have! All you've given me is proof that I'm just as worthless as I always thought I was. Or maybe I knew I was worthless. I mean, obviously, I don't actually think, I just bullshit my way through life, throw everything good out like week old trash, then freeze to death because I couldn't just keel over like a normal pony, I had to go out all dramatically because I still want someone to know I exist.

And what do I do to the one person who knew I existed, who cared for me, wholly and truly? I take advantage of her kindness and spit in her face. What a disgrace.

...sigh

...

...Well? I finished my story. I told my whole stupid, tragic backstory, I sat and cried in this living nightmare! What more do you want from me? DO YOU HEAR ME!? WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT!? Do you want me to do a song and dance number for you, want me to appease your psychotic sensibilities? I would, you know, if you didn't take all of my memories, asshole!

Is it too much to ask that I just die in peace? Do I have to spend the rest of eternity sitting here, basting in the rotted thoughts oozing from my empty head? Am I just going to be stuck here until the end of time? I don't want this! I never wanted this! I just... I just wanted to... oh...

That night... In the cold, when I was waiting for the train... I just wanted everything to go away. Well, I guess I got my wish, didn't I? All that's left now is me, a lone pony, sitting on a pitch black field, lying against a pitch black tree, just waiting for my last memory to leave me be. Then, I can sit alone for the rest of time. I can finally get what I deserve.

But... it's not what I deserve. I know that. I just... wanted to believe I was something special. I wanted to prove it to myself. But I kept getting in my own way. Why did I do that? Maybe I thought if I kept bringing myself down, I could only go up, only improve, only better myself. But I didn't better myself, I turned into an empty, emotionally distant jerkwad who couldn't tell love even when it was right in his face.

Maybe that's really why I'm here. Not because of my transgressions, or lack of faith, but because I believed that those things made me a worse pony. This place isn't purgatory because I'm stuck here alone, it's hell because I'm stuck here with myself, my own worst enemy.

Maybe, if things were different, If I were a better stallion than I was before, Rainfall and I could've lived happily ever after. We would've loved ourselves for what we were, and each other for what we could be.

That should've been my wish that night. Not to forget, or to fade away, but to know better. To love myself. To live, to enjoy life, and to know I deserved my place on this planet. Because like it or not, I'm Spiral Wave god dammit!

Hey... my name... That's right, it was Spiral Wave. What a nice name.

Well, if I'm staying here for the rest of time, the least I could do is learn to enjoy my own compan-

...Hey... What is that light?

Don't Tell Me You're This Much of a Jerk.

It was weird when it first happened, when I first got that feeling, I mean. You ever get that feeling? It's like this... sorta primal fear. But it's not like a fear of death, or... like... pain or danger or anything you'd normally be scared of. It's the petrifying, undying fear of failure. I used to feel it before I went out on my own, back when I was living with... my parents, I believe? I was always terrified that I'd disappoint my parents, more so my dad. My mother was kind of a ghost, but in the metaphorical sense. I think we interacted about once a week, and even then, it was always just formalities. My dad always used to tell me that he'd always be proud of me, but I never listened. I worked and I worked until my hooves cracked, and all just to impress my barely existent mother, and my old, contented father. It got to the point that I rarely talked with either of them. When I left to further my career, I realized that I hadn't spoken with my father in months, and I continued to keep to myself until I met Rainfall.

The morning after our trip to Hoofington's, that feeling came back again, and It was almost... nostalgic, y'know? It was so weird. We started talking with each other more and more, and all the while my anxiety only grew. I began to analyze every word I said. I pre-prepared entire conversation topics and jokes, all to not look like a failure in front of her. Luckily for me, it worked damn well. She laughed at my jokes, and we spent hours talking about art, food, media, just about everything really. She never even noticed that I'd practiced everything I said days in advance, at least I think she didn't notice. It didn't matter either way, because she was happy, so I was happy.

I think I should say now that we weren't a couple. Obviously, I would've jumped at the offer to be her partner, but I sure as hell wasn't gonna make the first move. If I did so, I'd look like a total creep. And what if she really was gay, or simply didn't like me that way? What then, we just act like nothing happened even though she'd now know how I felt about her? Absolutely not. I wasn't gonna risk it, so I stayed quiet, and continued writing my jokes and conversations. All to make her think I wasn't a failure, even when I was.

It was also at this time that my art career actually started taking off. When I wasn't working or hanging out with Rainfall, I was cooped up inside my studio, painting nonstop for hours on end. Many a sleepless night was spent in that studio, toiling away, trying to make a masterpiece that'd prove I was worth the space I took up. I went to art expos, auctions, and cultural centers of all kinds all winter. I must've done something right, because after weeks and weeks of trying, I finally got a letter in the mail that I was wanted for an interview by a local art magazine. I was ecstatic to say the least. This was exactly what I needed to rise the ranks of the art society. It was only a matter of time before rich dumbasses started buying my works for millions of bits at a time! Finally, I could prove I was something more than a useless clump of bone and fur!

Of course I told Rainfall about this, and she was excited too. I tell her that the interview's in maybe a month or so, and she responds by asking to see the studio. That stopped my brain in its tracks. Had I really not shown her my studio? Oh right, of course I didn't. I was so terrified of being a failure in her eyes, the only eyes that really mattered to me, that I never dared to show her my works. But now that she was asking, I didn't really have a choice, did I?

The trip was short, but the winter wind was starting to get to that point where you couldn't just go out wearing nothing anymore. She's all snuggled up in her coat like the adorable little treasure she is, so I open the door for her, and I'm glad I did, cuz that was when I got to see her eyes widen. I had... maybe ten paintings, I don't remember what they were, but she was definitely impressed. She starts zipping around the studio, gasping, oohing and aahing at every painting she sees. In retrospect, she was probably trying to be nice so as not to hurt my feelings, but I didn't notice at the time. I was too distracted by her smile.

I decide to bring her to my latest piece, which is not even close to finished, but she says it's beautiful anyway. She definitely hated them. I should've known better. Anyway, I start telling her my process, and she decides to lay patiently on an old futon I found on the side of the road. I'm explaining and telling her about my idea for my newest painting, and then I start spacing out again. And, like, in that moment, a brilliant idea comes to my head. So I look her in the eyes and ask, "Rainfall, do you wanna be the subject of a portrait?"

By Celestia you should've seen how her eyes lit up. "I get to be in a painting? Do I get to be in your interview too!?" I laughed my ass off. She was always so full of energy, a bright shining star next to the dull little fire that was me. That was just one of the many things I loved about her. Even now it still hurts to know I'll never see her again. Maybe I should just go and lay down.