Dear Derpy,

I write to you, not knowing if you will ever read this. If it can even reach you.

I have a few things, that i want to get off my chest. My name is Mitchell, or Mitch for short. I was born two weeks earlier than i was expected to be. Usually that would not be any cause for alarm, but I wouldn't eat anything. I stayed for almost an extra week at the hospital, just so i could be leaked nutrients through a tube.
A few years after, when i was but two years old, my right eye began to drift. I don't know exactly why, or how. But by the time i was three, I was completely cross-eyed. I endured a painful operation, and a couple of months with an eye-patch, just so i wouldn't be made fun of.
Other than that there was not much else about me. I started walking later than most children. That must be a foreign concept to you, but lets say that a person learning to walk is like a Pegasus learning to fly. Anyway, not only was I slow to walk, I was fast to read. I was reading on the toilet, before I could use the toilet. (Thanks dad for the habit.)
My school days were normal, went to kindergarten, made some friends. First grade was different. I was forced into a program for 'gifted children' that was really just meant to separate us from the other kids. At recess, my friends left me alone, and all i had was the sandbox. I literally spent all my recess time digging a hole, and then digging a whole next to it to fill the first hole. During that time, I got glasses. It was due to the fact that my eyesight was bad, and my cross-eye was returning,
In second grade, i got my friends back, but they were different, not as nice as before. I often was a go between for their fights. I continued to be in the gifted program, not like it helped me much, the teachers always had us do weird activities to 'strengthen our young minds' and other meaningless things like that.
Then, in third grade, I got new friends. These friends were much nicer to me, unlike some people in my class. I was still called four-eyes, and other, more profanity filled names. And it was during that time when my friends introduced me to something.. And that day was the day that I regret the most in life. Lets just say that what they showed me, was a human version of unshorn fetlocks. By fifth grade, some really messed up people started calling me 'Mitch the B****' i was hurt, so I had everyone call me Mitchell.
Fast forward to sixth grade, I was kinda messed up. But my parents had found me a new school, one with a less, tainted image, than the last one. So I completely changed my attitude, and covered up my past. But i couldn't cover it completely, I was still a glasses-wearing, cross-eyed, weirdo that had no friends. I still dealt with my now addiction to, that thing i mentioned before. But life began to look up for me. i got into this academic rivalry with one of the girls in my class, and she totally beats me every time.
She is just as crazy as I am, if not crazier. She and I are almost the same in every physical way possible, except for male/female differences. In my mind she was perfect for me. But she never expressed the same feelings.
About two years ago, my grandfather died. When that happened, my grandmother, changed a bit. She began to have these suspicions that my family was out for her money. And she puts her trust in all the wrong people. It has just become so hard to deal with her. She keeps this false identity around others, as if she was a sweet old lady. But I've heard the yelling, and it's not pretty.
And just like my grandma, there was another side to me. One that consumed me. I couldn't stop my self from returning to, it. From watching it. It was the worst. possible. thing.
About four months ago, i was trying to overcome my addiction by blocking it with television. (Its like a play in a theater coming out of a small magical box.) I found several shows. Animaniacs and Tiny Toon Adventures come to mind. But they both had stopped making more, and I soon finished them. I slipped back into my addiction, this time it was worse. But I found a show, a new show, a show that had not ended. A show called My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. Through that show, i overcame my addiction, but not in a normal way. I literally got bored of it. And when I first saw you, I felt a connection. Maybe it was the eyes, but there was a connection. And when you spoke, I was so overjoyed. But then there was an uproar, and your voice was changed. I stayed out of the battle, but I was worried. After the explanation came for Hasbro's intentions, i felt better knowing that you, were still you.
In conclusion, You and the other ponies have helped me through the tough times as of late. and I thank you for that. I also have a bit of encouragement for you, a short little poem to bring you some hope, and to remind you that you have friends that are right there, ready to help you in your time of need.

Love and Tolerate
Even in the face of hate
Don't make any remarks
That are only meant to berate
Hold you head up high
And stare at Death with one cross-eye
You and me together now
don't know where, why, or how
But of one thing that I know
Our love and stuff is sure to show

Your Caring Friend,
Mitch