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I stirred myself awake, groggy with morning's lethargy. Falling off the bed to my hooves, I smacked my lips as I went downstairs, yawning and blinking the whole way. Setting some water in the coffee pot, I inserted the ground beans and took a position in front of the machine, waiting for it to finish.

"Hey, Sweetie." The voice broke through my nap, snapping me into consciousness. I glanced over to see Lyra standing next to me, looking drowsy but rested. "I guess you fell asleep making the coffee, huh?"

I looked back over to the coffee pot, now full. "Uh, yeah, I guess I did."

Lyra chuckled. "Well, let's make some food, shall we?"

We assembled a breakfast of cinnamon toast and strawberries, and I poured us both some coffee so that we could begin waking up.

It took me a couple of sips before I realized that I was drinking coffee, a liquid that I never took as a stimulant before in my life. The fears of yesterday returned, and my simple morning with Lyra transformed into another consequence of Sweetie's meshing with my own self.

"Are you okay, Sweetie? You've been staring at that coffee mug for like, a whole minute."

I pulled myself out of my thoughts to see Lyra with a playful smile. "Oh, yeah, I'm just fine. Just, um, thinking."

"Well, what'cha thinkin' about?" Lyra rested her elbows on the table, drawing her face into an open smile.

I sighed, slipping into my own seat. "Lyra, how long have we known each other?"

Lyra paused, putting a hoof to her chin. "Um, let's see, I moved here… about three years ago, I'd say… and filed as a tenant about a half-month after that. So, I'd say yeah, three years. Why?"

I shivered despite the hot coffee burning in my stomach. "Because it's starting to feel that way, like you're a friend that I've forgotten now but once knew, and one detail would bring it all into light. But I'm afraid to remember. You're in the back of a lion's throat, and I'm terrified that it'll bite off my head.

"I..." I choked up, trying to keep bitter coughs from squeezing through my knotted vocal chords. "I can't remember my mom's name. My human mom. I remember her face, I remember her crying with joy when I got first place in the regional spelling bee, but I can't even remember her first name. And I can't remember what my dad looked like. My pony dad has a blue mane and a yellow coat but I don't remember if my human dad had black or brown or blonde hair. Maybe he was bald. I don't even remember some things about what I used to look like.

"Lyra... I'm scared."

Lyra bit her lip, looking down at the table and scratching a pristine section of it in an idle, deliberate fashion. "I'm so sorry, Sweetie..." She then draped a hoof around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I clasped onto her and let one or two tears leak out onto her chest, but broke the embrace after a few moments so we could eat our breakfast.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Lyra munched quietly on a slice of toast.

I gazed into the brown detritus at the bottom of my coffee cup, hoping that I could find some sort of strange tealeaf message to reassure me. All I saw was an upside-down rainbow, made up of the last solids of the drink spread out on the lower half of the bottom. I swirled the cup's contents around, mixing in the sediment with the last remaining liquid, before downing the rest of it in a gulp.

"Sweetie Drops," Lyra said, "do you want to go do something today? I mean, we can go to the park, or just walk around Ponyville, or…"

Lyra stopped as if she expected an answer from me, but I didn't interrupt her. I clenched the mug in my hooves, a part of me wanting to punch it through the wall for some reason.

"I think I'm just going to lay in bed for a while," I finally said. "Try to clear my head. Maybe I'll feel up to it later."

We finished up our glum breakfast. Lyra said she was going to the park with her lyre, and I grunted in response, already heading to the bedroom. Flopping onto my bedsheets, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that the smells and sounds of early Ponyville coming from the window would keep my nerves from fraying entirely.

After lying there for a while, listening to the steady tick of the clock on the nightstand and not thinking about much in particular, I focused my attention on the writing desk tucked in the corner. I got up from bed and walked over, pulled out a piece of paper, and began writing a letter out with my mouth, panic over the ease of doing so now just a dull, resigned acknowledgement.

After a few minutes of drafting, writing, crossing out, and restarting, I folded the finished note in three and slid it beneath my blanket. I'd get it later. For now, I was going to the park to pick up Lyra, then head to Twilight's to update her about things, and maybe find another pony with whom I could share last dreams and wishes with before I forgot them.

Locking the confectionery's door behind me, I began trotting towards Lyra's usual stamping grounds. Taking a deep breath, I did my best to enjoy the day, which was actually quite beautiful. The pegasi had apparently scheduled sunny skies for the prior couple of days; I counted myself fortunate that I at least could experience Equestria at its most heavenly before I lacked the capacity to know any better.

Entering the arch announcing the entryway to the Ponyville Town Park, I looked around for where Lyra might have picked a spot to play at. Spotting a slowly rocking green head over a small hill, I circled around to see her sitting on a bench in that unique way of hers, eyes closed, moving her head back and forth as she plucked the strings of her lyre held in her magic. Smiling softly, I kept a bit of distance as I enjoyed her melodies.

She played through a few tunes before noticing me, and smiled back, gesturing for me to come closer. I sat beside her on the bench, breathing deeply and letting the music wash over me.

After a few more songs, my stomach began to request food, so I nudged Lyra and whispered if she wanted lunch. She agreed, and we decided to eat at a cafe rather than return home today.

It seemed like Lyra still felt guilty about me dealing with identity loss, as she offered to pay for anything I wanted, but I insisted that unless some miracle were to occur, I was just going to accept the inevitable. Deep down I knew I didn't believe that, and I think Lyra knew I didn't believe it either, but she dropped the matter and we got our usuals.

Minuette happened by, and we waved, but didn't talk. I honestly didn't know what I'd have said to her if she had stopped to chat. I wasn't sure I knew what I'd say to much of anypony right then, except maybe one.

"We should go to the library," I said, sipping up the last of my ice water. "I want to talk with Twilight."

We paid the bill and headed to the Golden Oaks, saying hi to a few ponies along the way. Some of them I could remember, some of them I couldn't, but I tried not to let it show. Lyra knocked on the library's door, and after a few moments Spike answered it.

"What-? Oh, it's you guys. Boy, you really sent Twilight into a tizzy, she's been researching interspacing-whatever since you left yesterday morning."

"Do you mind if we talk to her?" I asked.

Spike shrugged and stepped aside to let us in, leading us down into the library's basement where Twilight was pointedly glaring back and forth at some scribbled notes, some machine readouts, and a couple of thick books. She remained engrossed in her reading and occasional note-taking until Lyra cleared her throat, startling Twilight out of her work.

"Oh, hello there Lyra, Sweetie Drops. What is it you need? Actually," Twilight interrupted herself, "Sweetie, I looked it up, and the root word for 'hand' comes from a phrase of dragon origin that also gives us the word 'hang,' to answer your question from the other day."

I stared blankly for a second. "Oh, uh, thanks Twilight, but Spike told us you were doing research on the stuff we spent yesterday going through."

"I have," Twilight said, "but you're probably not going to like the answers I have so far."

I gulped involuntarily. "What kind of answers?"

"Well," Twilight replied, turning back to the machine printouts, "I've been looking more deeply into the theory behind spacetime spells and interdimensional dilation. It's a lot of complicated magic stuff, but I wanted to have at least a rough estimate for how long it would take to develop a spell that could at least feasibly warp somepony across timelines."

"Wait, I thought you said interdimensional. So why look at time spells?" Lyra pointed out.

"It's all related," Twilight said, looking back up at Lyra. "I've experimented with time spells before, with... mixed results, and the hang-up is when one tries to remove oneself from a timeline without 'snapping back,' so called, to the main line. Likewise, dimensional travel is possible, but in this case the problem crops up when transporting the consciousness, rather than the body, across dimensions.

"The source of the problem concerns magic's tendency to naturally guide ponies towards certain predetermined actions. Cutie marks involve the same kind of magic, as well as the machinations behind why you're acclimating to the minds of those whose bodies you inhabit, so hopefully I won't have to explain everything there. With time spells, you suffer a snap-back to your original time in addition to all your actions in the different time already being factored into what will happen—a 'self-fulfilling' timeline, if you will—and so a more significant achievement would be a way to modify the past in a way that overrules magic's hold of constancy. It's likely such a breakthrough is impossible with the current understanding of magic."

"So what does this mean for the dimensional half of things?" I asked. Half of what Twilight just said made no sense to me; I just wanted a direct answer.

"As far as I can tell," Twilight said, addressing me, "while bodies can be transported across dimensional boundaries, they suffer the same snap-back repercussions that time spells have. However, there is documentation of magical portals linking dimensions, so it's not entirely theoretical."

"So all we'd need is to find a portal back to where I come from?!" I exclaimed, perking up.

"I don't even know if such a portal exists," Twilight admitted.

"Oh," I said, sagging back down.

"I mean, it could, but dimensional portals are few and far between. Theoretically there are infinite dimensions but you have to formulate a spell for each one, and the formulae are incredibly specific from elementary particle makeup to universe heat distribution. Even if I knew exactly what to look for, the spell would take at least a week."

"A week...?" I muttered.

Twilight visibly winced at my dejected response. "I'm sorry Sweetie Drops, really. I'd get you a portal opened tonight if I could, but I don't have the brain and horsepower to work that fast. This is the kind of magical work that requires high-level unicorns, and if I were to get some associates for Canterlot for help to cut down on the time, I'd waste just as much waiting for them to clear their schedules and visit Ponyville."

I nodded, unable to think of anything to say. We stood there in awkward silence for a while.

"Thanks Twilight," I said after coming to the conclusion that there was nothing to be done. "You don't have to do anything for me."

"Really, I'm-"

"I know," I interrupted. "Really, thank you for all you've done; you've been beyond generous with your time and patience considering the headaches we've given you the past few days."

"If there's anything else I can do," Twilight said, "just ask."

"Alright, Twilight. We will."

We left the library after a few short blunt goodbyes, and I trudged down the street, lost in thought. Lyra hadn't said anything in a while. I knew she wanted to comfort me in some way, but what can you say to a pony without hope?

She eventually seemed to settle with just walking next to me at my pace as we shambled back to our house. I unlocked the door gracelessly and just sat behind the counter as I had before on  many previous occasions and took the opportunity to really examine the storefront for the first time.

"You know, this place is really nice," I said. "I did a good job making it look good."

"Sweetie..." Lyra said, the undertone of trepidation in her voice not escaping me.

"It's fine, Lyra," I said quickly. "It doesn't matter whether I'll get over it or not at this point, because by the time I finally move on from the stage of denial, I won't even remember what it is I was in denial about. I'm mostly Sweetie Drops now at this point anyway, so it's not like there's going to be some big mental battle between psyches."

Lyra grimaced. "I'm still worried for you..."

"Give it another day," I slid through my teeth. "Everything will fix itself. That's what Twilight said yesterday, right?"

"I just..." Lyra sighed, sitting on one of the stools lining the other side of the counter. "Remember when you and I talked last night? About where you came from, about who you were? You had a fire in you. It was exciting. And I don't want to come off like it was a good thing—I wouldn't wish on anypony the kind of crisis you're going through—but the stress really electrified you. You acted so different from the Sweetie Drops I know, so opposite from being practical, so loose, so... inspired. Yesterday morning I was on edge about so suddenly having this massive issue to work out being thrust on our friendship, but by that night I really truly thought we could fix it and there would be a happy ending." Lyra rubbed at a spot on the counter with her hoof. "Guess I figured worlds could collide without the actual collision hurting anyone in the process, heh. Shows what I know."

"Lyra," I said, putting a hoof on her shoulder. "It's fine. Really. Sorry to, uh, disappoint you. But life doesn't really have happy endings."

Lyra stiffened, glancing up at me in alarm and no small amount of hurt.

"And it doesn't have sad endings either," I quickly continued. "It doesn't have any endings, really. Things just happen. You've got to accept fate as it comes and do your best with what you're given."

Lyra chuckled. "Now that's something Sweetie Drops would say."

"Well," I said, "that's not going to be happening any less often."

"Fair enough," Lyra said, shifting on her stool. "But it's not foolish to hope for the best, I don't think. I feel like otherwise would just be giving up."

"I'm not giving up," I murmured. "I'm just accepting the next stepping stone in whatever kind of life this is."

"It's a crazy one if nothing else," Lyra said. I hummed in agreement.

We spent a while longer talking on inconsequential topics before deciding to prepare dinner. Lyra volunteered herself again as chef for the night, but I insisted that I make something this time. She complained a bit, but eventually acquiesced, and I cooked some mushroom stroganoff I rarely made outside of special occasions. Lyra expressed great surprise when I set the sauce and noodles down on the dining table, but I figured she'd be pleasantly impressed if I prepared something a little fancier than usual.

After we finished, I invited Lyra on a postprandial stroll, and we managed to catch the sky a few minutes before Celestia set the sun, so we watched together quietly as the moon slowly rose into the sky and the stars winked into existence. Our moods brightened by the glittering moon, we walked back to the park Lyra likes so much and picked out a bench to enjoy the evening on.

We sat there for nearly an hour, occasionally saying something to each other but mostly just silently taking in the beautiful scene of Ponyville Park at twilight. Lyra eventually spoke up: "Hey Sweetie, want to head back home?"

"Why, are you tired?" I teased.

"A little bit, yes," she admitted.

"Well, I'd like to stay out a little later. If you want to go back home, I'll be back in an hour or so."

Lyra balked at just leaving me alone, but after some insistence that I'd be fine on my own, Lyra left, most likely because she understood this was likely one of the last moments I'd have to myself before it was all over. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the bench, letting out a long breath of air.

After some time of blanking my mind, I finally got up and began the journey back to the house. But halfway there, I heard a familiar voice singing terribly off-key from a house I definitely recognized.

Berryshine's place. Or as we always called her, Berry Punch.

I considered the choice briefly before knocking on her door.

The singing stopped abruptly, and there was the distinct sound of glass shattering on tile before the door opened to reveal a rather tipsy Berry.

"Oh hey it's Sweetums, 'sup?"

I froze up, not expecting this at all, and in my moment of indecision she swept me inside with a hoof. "Turns out I'm a pretty fine connoisseur if I do say so myself, got all these wines from all sorts of places." Berry plopped me down on a seat as she pushed a wine glass in my direction and filled it with liquid from a bottle that I was sure cost more than most of my candy stock. "Talked with Thunderlane today. The jerk totally flew away from me when I tried talking to him, said he had to 'look after Rumble.' What a load of crock! Completely clueless about who he was a few days ago."

"Look, Berry," I started, "I don't-"

"You don't what?" Berry said over me, easing into the seat next to mine as she took her own glass. "Don't want to enjoy our last night? Don't want to toast our final moment of clarity before nothing but ponies dance in our heads?"

"I'm not... I mean I wasn't old enough to drink alcohol," I said lamely.

"Well now you are," Berry responded, taking a draught from her glass. "Think of it as you moving on to your new life. A buildingsramen, whatever you call it."

"Bildungsroman," I corrected.

"Whatever, point is, we have an opportunity to give things a proper sendoff."

I sat there staring at the drink in front of me, unable to really think of it as more than anything other than glorified grape juice. "Berry, what do you think will happen to us?"

Berry had finished her serving and was pouring herself another. "I don't know. But we'll figure it out." She sniffed the wine elegantly before taking a deep sip. "We always do."

"We always do..." I parroted.

"That's right," Berry declared. "I don't know if I'd call it a celebration, unless you have celebrations for officially not caring, but sometimes desperately clinging to the status quo causes more problems than it solves. Not to say you should always go with the flow, but you could say we're making a statement. We're choosing to move forward with a proud step, not a terrified shuffle. We're saying, 'you threw this impossibility at us and we're going to keep on chugging no matter how much we change, because that's how life works.' It's not about how hard you're hit, it's about how proudly you hold your head up high after getting hit. That's real success."

I eyed Berry Punch curiously. "Since when does wine make you so inspired?"

"I don't know," Berry said, closing one eye and peering at me through the curvature of her wine glass. "Maybe the wine just makes me feel poignant."

My stare returned to the still untouched wine in front of me.

Berry and I leaned heavily on each other as we came to my home's door, laughing at something Berry had just said that I couldn't remember other than the fact I'd found it funny.

"Okay," I slurred, grasping the doorknob roughly in my hoof. "I need to go to bed. Hangover is future Sweetie's problem."

"Aight," Berry said, teetering slightly. "I can remember where my house is now better than when I first got here."

We shared another laugh before I said goodnight and I stumbled into the dark confectionery. Trying to make my way up the stairs quietly and only leaning into the wall a couple times, I entered the bedroom to find Lyra heavily snoring on her bed. Smiling dopily, I pulled back the sheets to my own bed before stopping and staring at the folded paper underneath my covers.

It took me a few moments before I remembered what it was, and despite the very nice bed calling sultrily for me to fall asleep I knew I had to do one last thing. I stuck the letter in a place I knew Lyra was sure to find it in the morning, and collapsed into bed, letting sleep take me away.