A Step Below
Dear Rarity... I wrote, focusing on every letter of her name like it was a laborious work of art. You probably think nothing of this letter.... I'm sure you've received many like it. I paused, judging whether or not that sentence deemed too desperate.
I crossed it out, annoyed at my own blindness.
I know this won't matter to you... I crossed that out immediately, snapping my wings in annoyance.
I am in love with you. I ignored the warning bells going off in my head, and forced my soul out onto the blank page. Even when I had no idea who you were, I was madly in love with you. I know you probably don't care, or you think I'm joking, but— I swore as my feather quill snapped.
"You can't even write, let alone do anything else useful" I scolded myself, annoyed at my failure. Why can't I be like everypony else? I can't even do what I was made to do... isn't that just pathetic?
Of course, that's why I love her. She isn't like any other ponies... she isn't like the ones who are gifted with a talent that they happily enjoy for the rest of their life. She worked hard for her talent... she sewed together her own future.
That's what I tried to do. That's what my name predicted I would do. Did it fix my failed life? Why would it. You can't make perfection with something a step below average.
You're everything I want to be, Rarity. I continued, scratching out the words with my shattered quill. Even in writing, I have to settle for a step below average.
You made your own destiny from an impassible stone... you turned it into a beautiful rarity of a life. I dipped the quill into the dark violet ink that would barely even stick to my useless feather.
When I placed the pen down to write, no words came to me.
"You can't even think of something to write, you useless thing..." I whispered, tears beginning to peak from my eyes.
I can't do anything useful. Whenever I try, everypony think it's cute, or laughs like I'm trying to fail as some cruel form of slapstick. My entire life is nothing but a purposeless, depressing comedy skit... whose writer meant it to be an adventure novel.
My first tear fell before I could begin to form the next words.
Rarity, you're perfect. I wrote, the tears flowing like blood from a cut vein.
Even when you make a mistake, you succeed. You're the element of generosity, you're the best dressmaker in Equestria, and anypony on the planet would give their left hoof to spend a day with you.
A sob leaped from me as I ended the sentence. Did I really love this pony?
I sighed. 'No' I thought. 'I don't.'
In a sisterly I-want-to-be-you way, probably. But when it comes to the romance that I desire... it just isn't there.
"Then why am I writing this?" I mumbled, glaring at my falsely claimed 'Love Letter'.
Of course, I knew the answer. Nopony cares if I walk around, groaning about how I'm useless. Ponies are in to stories with complicated and dramatic situations.
If they won't read news that Gabby Gums didn't write, why would they care about my own problems?
However, a young pony caught in a forbidden love with another? Everypony cares now. Most ponies wouldn't expect me to pick Rarity as my love.
'A unicorn in to fashion? Why would you pick her?' They would ask.
"Why doesn't anypony understand anything about me?" I whispered, poking at my quill like it was a dead bug that I found disgustingly intriguing.
I pretend to admire athletes, like the Wonder bolts... picking up apple cores for the especially fast pegasi in town... everypony thinks I'm just a cute little fan-girling pegasus hoping to get an autograph from her super-fast idols.
'It's probably better that way.' I thought numbly as I picked up my quill again. Pressing the mangled feather against the paper, I began to carve out my name onto the bottom of the scroll. Every letter forced its way out of me, revealing the dog tag of a name that I wore every day.
It's ironic, really. While ponies say that a filly's talents can never be determined... so many ponies have names that relate to their talent. Rainbow Dash... Octavia... Mr. and Mrs. Cake... mine? All it shows is the only thing that I'm able to do. It broadcasts what I've been forced to settle for.
"Great." I said. "Now I'm repeating myself. Can't even hold a rant without it turning into a freaking comedy."
This whole thing started about a month ago. A friend of mine had to go by Rarity's Beauty Parlor for a bit, so I came with her. After a brief fifteen minutes there, I realized how truly amazing of a person Rarity was. For the longest time, I had been feinting my own desires... just to fit in.
I can't sing for my life. Because it's something that would be 'cool' to do, I humiliate myself in front of a whole audience. They even thought I was joking... not even my failures can be considered real in the minds of these damn ponies.
Another tear fell.
"Why can't anypony take me seriously?" I whimpered, staring at the tear and ink stained scrap of parchment beneath me. The tears continued to flow, blotting out the name that I hated so.
I crushed the letter, sighing as I threw it behind me, along with myself, onto my bed.
"I should just learn to deal with this." I grumbled, staring at my facade collection of wonder bolt posters plastered to my ceiling. "I only wish I could..."
I rolled over, burying my face into my soft, down filled pillow. I non-seriously contemplated the thought of suicide for a moment, before mentally slapping myself for being way too dramatic. "It's not like anypony would care if I did." I mumbled.
"After all... nopony cares for the plight of a Chicken without a head."
