Drunken Hearted Pt. 15: Memories in My Head (Finale)

>You haven’t slept at all, and it’s slowly becoming morning.
>In fact, it’s only 4:57.
>You roll over away from the clock and bury your face in Rarity’s pillow; her faint scent still lingers deeply in the fabric.
>Like her memories, it will never fade from your mind. You’ll never lay with her in this bed again.
>Now that you’re awake, you decide to make some food and clean up.
>You slip a blanket around you bare body. With the house unoccupied, it hasn’t been heated regularly in a while. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was ice floating in the air if it wasn’t so dark.
>After staggering to the fireplace, you finally coax a small flame from a piece of ripped newspaper.
>The small fire begins to come to life and feed on the small twigs and paper while giving off some heat which you eagerly welcome.
>The room is dimly lit in a bouncing orange glow as you look around it.
>A few photos of you and Rarity are staring back at you.
>It won’t be painful taking them down or anything. Rather, the house will seem really bare and lonesome with nothing to cover the muted pink walls.
>The fire slowly starts to crack to life; the paper starts to curl as it’s consumed by the orange glow.
>You stand and make your way to the kitchen for a little sustenance.
>The fridge is pretty bare. You and Rarity got rid of all the perishable food before heading out on her touring.
>There’s still a bottle of wine and some crackers in the pantry.
>You opt just for crackers. You’ll make some coffee to go with it.
>The crispy wheat wafers are very dry, and the coffee is not yet finished.
>As the pot bubbles behind you, a blinking light in the other room draws your attention.
>Walking up to it, the area around the answering machine is lit in a red tint as the flashing “1” is more visible.
>When did someone call you? It’s probably for Rarity again.
>You press the button to listen to the message as you walk back to the kitchen for you coffee.
>”One new message.”
>You lift the pot from its cradle and begin to pour it over your sugar cubes before hearing a familiar voice.
>”Anon…hi…”
>You nearly overfill your mug at the sound of the voice.
>It’s obviously familiar.
>”I just wanted to talk to you one last time before I headed to Manehattan again, but I guess you aren’t home…”
>Rarity’s meek, lonesome voice fills the small cottage.
>She sounds deflated and defeated; like she’s forcing her words out with all her might, but doesn’t really mean them.
>”Anyways, it was…nice to see you again. I’d have liked it to be on pleasanter circumstances…but…maybe another time?”
>You look at the wall in the living room. It’s dotted with photos of you and Rarity as a happy couple from the past; a photo shoot in the fall.
>”So…I guess I just wanted to say goodbye.”
>Rarity’s voice is bittersweet. You can almost hear her frown through the phone.
>”Well…I’ve suppose I should hoof it…heh.”
>A reminder of an old joke.
>”I’m always here if you want to talk. Goodbye, Anonymous.”
>And with a beep, Rarity’s tiny voice fades from the room as silence engulfs you once more.
>You look at your photo with her again. In your hand, you brush her face on the picture with your thumb…recalling her smooth coat and coiled mane.
>Her message was a small farewell. Both of you have moved on; no more bad blood.
>Peace.
>You sip you coffee and look at the clock.
>You’re almost late for being early…better head to the train station. If Minuette was there, she’d surely scold you for being late.
>After taking the last sip of coffee and slipping on your jacket, you walk down the road toward the station.
>As you fling the door open to the daydream-dyed morning, the sun white and dazzling, you shut your eyes.
>You patiently wait to return to your former self: meek, indifferent, and longing for compassion.
>It’s still a little cold. You fold your hand under your arms to warm them a little.
>In doing so, you hear a rigid sound emanating from your breast pocket.
>You take the photo out again to look at Minuette’s joyous face.
>She looks so happy; the memories of the night put a smile on your face even now.
>But after a quick gust of wind, your face turns shocked. The glossy photo slips from your hand and flies through the air, twisting in the breeze.
NO!
>You chase after it, clutching the air behind it.
>A few feet of splashing in the slush after the photograph, you come to a familiar filly.
>The photo pierces into the snow in front of Sweetie Bell.
>She looks up at you.
>”Oh, hi Anon.”
>You huff and wave to her. She’s got her school bag slung around her neck. It’s about that time of the morning.
>Sweetie Bell spots the picture sticking out of the snow.
>The filly bends down and grasps it in her mouth and raises it to you.
Thanks.
>She nods.
>”Is that Minuette in the picture?”
>You were hoping she didn’t see.
Oh, uh…yeah, it is.
>She smiles a little.
>”I like her, she’s funny.”
>You remember how Minuette acted around her. It was funny, but only because she was uncomfortable the entire time.
>You look at the picture again.
Yeah…she can be funny sometimes.
>The breeze blows again.
So…sorry I wasn’t able to come over sooner…
>You try to tiptoe around your breakup with the filly’s sister, lest she be unaware.
>”Oh, that’s okay. I didn’t think you’d come over since you and Rarity aren’t marefriend and boyfriend anymore.”
>It’s a relief that she knows.
Oh…yeah. So…what did she say?
>Sweetie scrunches her face.
>”I don’t know, something about people change and stuff…I wasn’t really paying attention.”
>It seems Rarity’s actions have caught up with her little sister.
Boring, huh?
>Sweetie nods and rolls her eyes.
>”Anyways, I think you and Minuette make a much better couple!”
>You blush a little.
Well…we aren’t exactly…
>You trail off a bit. Best to just end it.
Thanks. I think so too.
>Sweetie Bell smiles but then changes her mood.
>”Well, it was nice to see you but I need to get to school.”
>You almost forgot yourself.
Oh, sorry. Have a good day, Sweetie Bell. I’ll see you later.
>The picture is still in your hand. Soon it will be all you have left of Minuette. It shouldn’t be that way.
Sweetie Bell, wait!
>The filly turns around and walks back to you.
Do you have a pencil handy?
>She nods and produces the yellow writing utensil in an instant.
Thanks.
>On the reverse of the photo, you inscribe your address and a message for Minuette.
>After scrawling, you hand the pencil back to the filly.
Thanks. Have a good day at school, Sweetie Bell.
>It seems she almost forgot. She nods and rushes off down the snow-spotted road.
>You should head toward the train station. You thrust the photo in your pocket and begin walking.
>The breeze is light against your skin and the sun kisses your cheeks and hair.
>Looking at the town around you, you remember when you first arrived.
>Just like on Earth, you were easily influenced by others. So desperate for affection, you seemed to cling to the first pony who gave you the time of day.
>Unfortunately, that just happened to be Rarity.
>Even though it’s well in the past, looking at Sweetie Bell’s house brings you back to when you first met her parents.
>It was a little hard to explain to them that you were peaceful.
>You rub your face and come back to reality.
Two years…wow…
>You keep walking and in the distance you can make out the station at the edge of town.
>You walk under the awning and sit on a cold metal bench.
>The station seems pretty abandoned, except for a familiar mare next to you.
>”You’re late, Anon.”
>You look at your watch embarrassed.
No I’m not…
>Minuette closes her eyes and ponders your words.
>”Hmm…well, maybe it’s me that’s late then.”
>It must pain her to say that out loud.
No, I guess we’re both on time. We met didn’t we?
>Minuette nods slowly.
>”Yeah, I guess so.”
>The wind blows through the empty station, howling against the pillars.
Have you been waiting long?
>Minuette rolls her eyes.
>”Not really.”
Oh, that’s good I guess.
>After shifting uncomfortably in your seat on the bench, you and Minuette look into the distance beyond the train station. The gray clouds dot the skyline, but the weather is still nice.
>As the weather becomes clearer, the memories of the past seem to fade away with it, and with Minuette’s ever-approaching departure.
>You can’t accept it…or maybe you don’t want to. She’ll be back to her normal life soon, while you’re forced to figure yours out all over again.
>In all your inner turmoil, Minuette patiently awaits the train’s arrival next to you, which should be soon. All you can do is sit silently with her pretending you’re okay.
>Minuette produces her day planner from her bag and flips through it intently.
What do you have planned?
>She scrunches her face at your question.
>”Well…lots, actually. When I get back I have to unpack, finish an article and submit it, and then I might do a little shopping if I can squeeze it in.”
>The pages of the book flap as Minuette scribbles some things down.
>For some reason it intimidates you.
Are you gonna…sleep at all?
>Minuette looks at you in a deadpan manner.
>”I…hadn’t thought about it. If I have to, I will I guess.”
>With that, the conversation recedes into silence once more.
>You look at your watch; 7:46. The train should be here in a matter of minutes.
>Minuette sighs at your action.
>”Sorry…”
It’s okay. You know, I never got to tell you…
>You swallow hard and look into Minuette’s deep blue eyes.
You really are the best friend I’ve had since I’ve been here; the only person I can connect with.
>Her face seems to open a little at your words.
I don’t know…just…thanks for being there. If I didn’t meet you at the hotel I can’t imagine where I’d be right now.
>You close your watery eyes and then open them again.
>A deep breath; a rub of your face.
I’m sorry.
>Minuette sniffs.
>”No don’t be. You were a breath of fresh air…I really needed you. I mean, maybe I still do.”
>Still ambiguous, even in the end.
>”I don’t know.”
>You check your watch once more. 7:50.
>Only 10 minutes. 10 minutes to change your future and salvage your happiness.
Minuette…
>The strain is killing you.
>She looks at you, but you’re silent for a few moments.
>”What?”
Just…
>Her ears droop slightly at your weak words.
>You’re backing out. You can’t tell her what you want to.
>In the distance you can faintly make out the train’s whistle. It will be at the station soon.
>Your heart races. It’s all coming down to this minute.
Minuette?
>She seems to fidget at the sound of the tooting whistle again.
>With a quivering lip she looks at you.
>”Y-yes?”
>A deep breath. You can do this.
>You want to spew out all your feelings onto her at this moment and beg her to stay with you.
>She looks wantingly at you.
I…
>But decide against it. She needs to move on and live her life, just as you do.
Nothing.
>She smiles. She isn’t upset that you didn’t tell her, but she knows that it’s best to let go without any strings hanging.
>A clean break is best.
>The train is slowing down and pulling into the station.
>The metal behemoth grinds to a steamy halt as it makes its way to the platform.
>Minuette puts her planner back into her bag and rises from the cold bench.
>”I guess it’s time. Wanna get my bags?”
>You really don’t want to.
Sure.
>Some other ponies depart the train car and shuffle to the exit of the station. Minuette is the only one boarding the train.
So is it a direct route?
>”Hmm, no; to Van Hoover, then LP.”
Oh. Well that sounds easier on you…that’s a long trip direct.
>You remember that all too well.
>Minuette gives a sad nod. She must really not want to go.
>You kneel down to Minuette’s eye level and catch a lone tear escape her eye.
>She sighs to collect herself.
>You still don’t know what to say.
>You pet her mane, possibly for the last time.
Have fun, and be safe.
>Minuette scoffs at you; her smile too big to contain, the same as her tears.
>”Oh shut up. You suck at making me feel better.”
>The two of you laugh. You bring the unicorn in for a hard embrace.
>The feeling of her warm minty coat against you is something you never want to end.
I know I do. But you’re good at it…so I guess…I want to be more like you, and how you make me feel.
>She breaks away and looks at you blankly.
>”Do I…make you feel good?”
>You blush a little.
Well…yeah, you do. You make me feel…complete. When I’m with you I feel like I can be myself.
>Minuette wipes her eyes at you cheesy words.
It feels…right…
>Minuette giggles her cute floaty way at your words.
>”You know…I think for the first time, you’ve actually made me feel better.”
>The unicorn leans in and pecks your cheek.
>”I need to get on now.”
Okay.
>You hoist Minuette’s luggage to the doorway as a stallion takes it.
>Now it’s just you and her standing at the entrance to the car.
>The moment of truth.
>A large gust of wind flaps your jacket open.
>Minuette spots the photo sticking out of your pocket.
>”Is that..?”
>You pull it out and look at it.
Yeah…
>The two of you lock in a stare. Between you is the last reminder of your time together.
>You offer the picture to her.
Here…you take it.
>She looks a little shocked.
>”Are you…sure, Anon? I mean-“
Yes. Please…take it.
>She smiles a little and with a suppressed joy, take the picture with her magic and unfolds it before her face…followed by a snorted laugh.
>”Oh god…I look so stupid!”
>You grin. Her tears are flowing silently as her laughter mixes with her sorrow.
>She flips it over.
I think you look beautiful…
>”Oh…stop…”
>Her eyes read your message, and then she looks at you.
>She wants to break down; she wants to throw everything away for you and what the two of you had in the city; you can tell.
>But she smiles through it and smiles. She floats the photo to cover her face.
>On the back you can read your scrawled message next to your address:
>”The more you know who you are and what you want from life, the less you let things bother you.”
>Then Minuette sighs deeply before separating the picture in half with a loud rip with her magic.
>It’s an instant motion; it couldn’t have lasted more than a few half seconds.
>In that second, your heart is completely shredded like the paper before you.
Wh-…
>Minuette looks at the back of each separated piece and floats the blank one to you.
>”Here you go.”
>You take the piece in your hand and examine it.
>A perfect crease; half of you and half of Minuette in this one printed rectangle.
>You look at the complete Minuette before you. Her smile is as bright as it is in the picture.
>”Now we can both have a piece.”
>You grin at her odd solution. She’s really something else.
Thanks.
>You hug the pony one last time.
>”Yeah. I’ll write you and say hello or something.”
Sounds good to me.
>One final embrace before standing on your feet as Minuette departs into the car.
>You close your eyes and fall into your sentimental whirlpool and try to thrust your feelings away.
>The train’s whistle blows, and in a cloud of steam the mechanical beast awakens and starts to move.
>Minuette takes her seat in the car and stares out the window at you.
>She moves so slow…slowly leaving your life.
>You blink away the tears; closing your watery eyes and then opening them again…each second seeing Minuette slide farther away.
>You stand motionless. All you see before she’s leaves your vision is her hoof waving at you.
>And with that, Minuette is gone.
>You sniff one last time and head back home…head hung at an odd level; not high, not low.
>It’s now two months later.
>Winter has come and gone rather painlessly. You’ve found work doing some odd jobs. Nothing you’d call a career though.
>It’s late in the morning and your reading over your mail while enjoying your coffee.
>Still, that letter eyes you in the corner of your gaze.
>You try to ignore it and read the paper instead.
>Rarity’s name has been mentioned a few times…that’s nice.
>Her home, now yours, has been purged of her. You’ve moved on for sure…no more bad blood between you two.
>She has the life she’s always wanted, and you have yours.
>Almost…
>You set the newspaper down and take a breath and pick up the letter.
>There’s no name on it, but the address is from Los Pegasus.
>You carefully unfold it a look at the writing on it.
>”Hello, or something.”
>You laugh quietly to yourself. You know who this is from.
>You pick up your pencil and begin writing your return letter to her.