You Never Realize What You Have

I stared coldly at the hills that lied in the near horizon.  A beautiful mix of dark green to a light yellow that rolled upwards along with the mound, contrasting each other in a way that seemed to make it look magnificent in the dim glow of the moon. It was a somewhat quiet night, but what I saw spoke to me more than the hooing of owls or the chirping of crickets.

 While my eyes may have been focused on the grass, my peripheral vision was focused on the myriads of fireflies that danced across the sky. Each of them twinkled a blinding white, sending patterns to each other that I could not decode. They seemed to mingle so freely, something I yearned to do to this day. Always together, with a simple flick of the lights.

Sometimes, I liked to question myself about the very nature of my being. Why was I still here? What more did I have to accomplish? I had purpose in the early years of my life. I had friends to share my success with. Those were the good days in life, when I could trot through town, and be met with the faces of beaming ponies. But now? All alone on some hill that overlooked Ponyville.

I had never done especially well in school, barely pulling through. That was, until I discovered the joy of art. I was able to paint masterpieces that appealed to the soul. I had always underestimated myself, but the constant praises of my dear friends soon lifted my spirits into making myself believe that I had a very special talent. Ironically, it was those same praises that caused me to lose every single last one of them. Some say I became egotistical, revelling in my own works more than the others. My art became the center of all my conversations, soon drowning out every other thought that drifted into my mind. Before I caught on, my friends had all left me.

Sure, I continued painting, but I did it with lifeless strokes. I’d force my mouth to take the paintbrush, and move it begrudgingly across the blank canvas in mixtures of whatever my brush was dabbed in at the moment. It all became a blur. My work took on a life of its own in a depressing matter. Was it worth it? I’d like to think not. Sure, my work became emotional. But I had no one to share it with except a posh group of Canterlot ponies, who failed to see the basic things in life, and in turn only relied on the elegance that others told them to like.

Until I decide to do something better than mope about things I can’t change, I’ll sit on my haunches at the top of this hill, just in front of my house. I’ll continue watching the lights of the town illuminate the night sky every evening. I’ll wish I was with them, but be scorned by my own thoughts that I am the reason I’m all alone.

Could things have worked out differently? Would my personality have let it? After being degraded all my life, and finding something I was actually good at, I needed to talk about it. To hear the praises, the compliments. To think I was doing something right. It feels like it was all for naught, living a life where my outer shell shows a smile, yet I felt like crying on the inside.

The wind picking up brought me back to reality. It lazily made my mane drift, my tail following in suit. The fireflies had long since flown away. The only thing that seemed to still twinkle were the stars that dotted the vast sky. Ponyville was hidden amongst shadows, the last of the lights being turned off sometime when I was lost in questioning myself. I twiddled with the grass that  enclosed the area where I was sitting, hoping to find some sort of solace, maybe a solution that would fix everything at once. I hung my head in defeat, not even taking the chance to try to formulate an idea. It wasn’t worth the time, I’d find more comfort in sleeping after a long day then pondering about doing something nigh-impossible.

With a sigh, I got up from my sitting spot. A clean outline of patted down grass was left where I had motionlessly stayed over the past few hours. I caught one last glimpse at the moon high in the sky, before turning around and trotting at a brisk pace back towards my home.

Possibly the last place I felt I’d be welcomed with a warm embrace.

                                                End