Gift of the Sad Guy (RGRE)

>Your house was the largest single story house in all of Ambleton, a small country town. It was a necessity of your larger stature, given that you were a human.
>If you ever had any pony visitors, though, they'd think it were cramped even for them.
>It seemed to fill up overnight with more stuff than you ever wanted. It reminded you of those old hoarder reality TV shows your mom liked to watch.
>But you couldn't bring yourself to get rid of any of it.
>That's why right now you were trying to organize it so at least your kitchen was clean and you had paths clear of tripping hazards to each room.
>You picked up a picture frame, a gift from a filly named Filigree. She'd made it for you right after she'd gotten her cutie mark in metal working. You would need to find wall space for it.
>You set it on a drafting table, a gift from a mare named Saw Dust. You planned to use it to draw a picture of your family, as well as you could remember their faces anymore, and put it in the picture frame.
>Next was a vase the local potter gave you, a stallion named Biscuit. You'd almost knocked it over several times, and you wanted to find a special place for it so you could finally put flowers in it.
>Two dressers, each so small they could only fit a single pair of your pants in a drawer. You'd tried stacking them on top of each other, but never felt comfortable with how wobbly the tower was.
>A yoke and plow because... You're not sure why Loamy Silt gave that to you, given that you don't have fields. Just to have a place to store it, among other things, you planned on building a shed in the back.
>In the corner you had more cookware than you could ever use. Pots and pans and skillets of wildly different makes and sizes, multiple bellows for the fire, a precarious stack of mason jars, tongs, whisks... If there was one thing you wished the ponies would give you more often, it was boxes so you could have more storage space.
>But as much as you wanted, it was hard to complain about the generosity of the ponies. It felt nice knowing that you were in their thoughts, although...

>Be Anon, but several months ago. You were still new in town, and looking to make some friends.
>Your neighbor, Saw Dust, had recently given you a table as a housewarming gift. It was so short that putting things on it was barely any different than putting things on the ground, and you had to watch yourself to not trip on it, but it was extremely well made. Tracing your hand over the scrollwork and finish, you could tell Saw Dust had tried her hardest to make something nice for you.
>Your budget was going to be tight this month, but you bought a gift for her in return.
>You stood outside of her shop and knocked on the door.
>A minute passed, and then it opened on well oiled hinges, making not a sound.
>"Well, hi, there, Anon. You settling in your place alright?"
"Yes, actually. It's already starting to feel like a home. I can't tell you how much I appreciate everyone looking after me."
>"Ah, it's nothing. We'd do it for anypony."
"Still, I wanted to let you know how much I appreciated all the help you've been, so I got you this."
>You pull your hand out from behind your back and offered her a bottle of cider.
>She studied it for an uncomfortable amount of time while you held it out.
>"Hmmm. I think I'll pass, actually. I prefer harder spirits than you stallions."
"Ah... Well. That's OK, I guess."
>You pulled the bottle back and tried to put it in your pocket, but wound up just fumbling around awkwardly.
"So, nevermind the cider. Do you wanna get lunch with me sometime? I've been meaning to try some of the restaurants here and would like some company."
>"Restaurants? I guess you haven't been here long enough to know the only restaurant we've got here is the Pickled Pigsty, and that's gonna be a hard 'no' from me."
>Your shoulder slumped.
"Alright, then. I guess I'll see you around."

>Back in the present day, you resumed working on your organizing. You still had that bottle of cider since it didn't feel right taking it for yourself or giving it to someone else.
>Most of your interactions with ponies had gone much like your interaction with Saw Dust, but as time went on the rejections became less cordial and more sour.
>You were confused because they went out of their way to make sure you had more than you needed, but otherwise didn't seem to care much for you.
>It stung a little, but for all you knew this was how they treated everyone and they just weren't as much like humans as you first thought.

>It's been a week since your last attempt to organize your home. You had made good progress, and then the ponies dumped more things on you, and now you're worse than before.
>If it all weren't so nice you'd swear they were just using your house as a garbage dump at this point.
>Right now you were nursing a black eye you'd received after tripping and slamming your face into a kettle.
>Nothing felt broken, but you felt like something should have been broken, if that made sense.
>You'd had to dig through a pile of cleaning equipment and toiletries to find your first aid kit in your bathroom.
>...

>You were hesitant at first because you'd made many, many plans to use everything you'd been given, but it had to be done.
>Just like the things cluttering your home, your plans were cluttering your life, and it was time to take stock of what really mattered to you.
>You were going to keep the drafting table, the frame, some cookware, and a couple other odds and ends, but everything else you were dragging out of your house.
>You were only a quarter done when you decided to stop for the day, and your yard already looked like an estate sale.
>You still weren't sure what you'd do with it all, but at least your home would be yours again.

>The next morning you heard a loud knock at your door.
>When you opened it you were greeted by an angry mare, Saw Dust.
>"You do realize it was scheduled to rain last night, right?"
"Uh... Yes?"
>"So you just left all this outside to get ruined?"
>She pointed at the big pile of STUFF with a muddy hoof.
"I wasn't really thinking about that, I guess. I just needed space in my house."
>"That's it? You had too much stuff, and now it's ruined and we all have to look at the mess? What's wrong with you?"
"Well, I didn't feel like I had much choice after I nearly brained myself." you said while pointing at your black eye.
>She cringed when she saw your wound.
>"That's, uh, that's pretty bad... But a stallion like you doesn't deserve any sympathy."
"A stallion like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
>"You're the greediest, most low-down stallion I've ever met. You're the definition of a bit-digger. Not even the loneliest marelets in town are interested in you."
"Greed- I am not greedy! I have tried so many times to be as generous as you ponies, but you never fucking accept my gifts. That's not my fault."
>"What? What are you even trying to say? That our not being greedy is justification for your greed? That's exploitation."
"Yeah, well, given the state you all have left my house I'm pretty much done accepting anything from you ever again."
>"I guess that black eye knocked some sense into you, then."
>Your blood was boiling. You just wanted your house back, and what do you get? An angry mare throwing wild accusations at you.
>You stepped forward, out of your house, and buffeted her out of your way with your hip.
>"Hey!"
>You ignored her while you started throwing around random garbage in your yard until you found the first table she gave you.
"You see this? It's so low to the ground for me that it's no different than just putting something on the floor. I can't tell you how often I've almost tripped on it. If I saw it on the side of the road I'd leave it there because it's entirely useless to me!"
>"Then why'd you accept it?"
"Because you gave it to me."
>"What kind of logic is that? 'Hur-de-dur-de-dur, when people offer something I have to take it!' Do you realize how stupid you sound?"
"And do you realize how ungrateful you sound? You are quite possibly the most caustic person I have ever met. How can anyone stand being around you?"
>To emphasize your point you tried to break the table over your knee, but it was too well made and you wound up just hurting yourself instead.
"Jesus fucking Christ, why is everything so miserable about you ponies? I just wanted to be friends with you lot."
>"If this is your idea of friendship, then I don't know what you were expecting."
"What I expected was for you to accept this" you shouted while grabbing a sealed bottle of cider from the rubbage and shoving it in her muzzle.
>She stepped back from your offending hand.
>"Why are you giving me cider? I don't like cider. Get that out of my face."
"It's the bottle I tried to give you when I first moved here, you bitch. It was an offering of friendship, just like I thought your stupid table was, and then you rejected me."
>"Are you crazy? I didn't reject you, I just don't like cider."
"Then you should have accepted it anyway."
>"Why do you keep insisting people should take things they don't want?"
"Because receiving a gift is a rare and precious thing, and you should be grateful whenever someone cares that much about you."
>"Have you looked at your yard? There's nothing rare about getting a gift."
"I..." You stopped. "I guess you're right. It's not rare here."
>You slumped down into the grass.
>You could feel tears starting to leak out of your eyes, so you looked away from her.
"...Gifts aren't common among my people, not like this. Giving is something you do to show you care, to make the other person's day a little bit better. The gift doesn't matter as much as the act itself, and refusing a gift is like spitting in someone's face."
>You cleared your throat.
"I wasn't trying to be greedy. I thought... I wanted to accept what I thought was friendship, and then it all went wrong."
>"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. How could a gift that doesn't matter be a sign of friendship?"
"I don't know. That's just the way we are."
>"That's a load of horse apples, and you know it."
"I... I am getting really tired of you, and I'm ready for you to get off my property."
>"Fine."

>Over the next couple of days you managed to clear out your entire house and move everything to the local dump. You had originally planned to keep some things, but whenever you thought about keeping something your stomach turned.
>Rumors about your fight with Saw Dust spread, and your dismal reputation among the townsfolk plummeted even more.
>It seemed that your idea of what gift giving meant fell on deaf ears. The idea was too alien to their concept of gift giving, which you now realized was entirely about utility and making sure everyone had what they needed.
>In retrospect you could see the community spirit behind their gifting, and that was nice, but you couldn't help but think the whole thing felt hollow.
>A week later you left Ambleton forever.