I don't know when I realized I prefer mares over stallions.

It just... happened.

I suppose a part of me always knew...knew what I was. I suppose that's why I attached my affections onto Prince Blueblood. It was much easier to be in love with a fictionally perfect prince than a real stallion. It was a stupid, naive thing to do, but it worked, I fooled myself into believing I was straight.

Then came the Gala. I don't know what I was expecting. I can only assume that in my grand delusions I had somehow convinced myself that it would be love at first sight, a fairytale romance. I was wrong of course, I'd never felt that spark with any of the stallions I'd had brief flings with in my youth, why should I have felt it with Blueblood? Never mind the fact that Blueblood was...well a pig.

After that night, it started becoming clear to me. I had never loved that prince. I had loved the idea of him, sure, of a perfect mate who would be all I ever wanted and needed, but I had never loved the real stallion.

Then, things started to creep up on me, things I had been forcing myself to avoid for years. They came in fleeting, sidelong glances, like a school filly crush, at my friends, the mares I passed by in the street. In the little sighs that came whenever I watched a happy couple of mares out on a date.

I had to face the truth...

I was a fillyfooler.

It was clear to me that it was something that could never become public. As a designer trying to build up my status, reputation was everything. Ponyville itself was a fairly liberal town, but there were still those frowned at the idea, several of my best costumers I knew were among this group. Worse still was the idea of word getting out and ruining my small, but pristine, appearance in big cities like Manehatten and Canterlot.

No, I decided that it would simply not do. I could crush on mares all I liked, but I would not fall in love with one. I told myself that firmly, swore to stay by it, and it worked, I didn't fall in love.

Until the trip to Canterlot.

I remember when I bumped into them. To this day, I still wish I had been paying more attention, I could have avoided them, stopped the whole thing. But no, I went crashing straight into them. He quite surprised me obviously, he was well known for his influence in the high-society fashion world, but it was her that left me flabbergasted. She was easily the most beautiful mare I had ever seen. She was tall and lithe, with her glistening cream coat and beautiful pink mane with it's gentle curl. She stood next to him with the glow of a goddess.

I forced myself tear my eyes from her, to stutter out apologies to him. I picked up my belongings with my eyes to the ground, scared to look up and risk seeing her face again. But I wanted to, oh, I wanted to.

When he had offered me the opportunity to visit his box at the Wonderbolt's derby, I jumped on the chance. He was quite an important pony after all, and, I had to admit, the chance to see her again had made my body tingle...

No! I had shaken my head at that. It was such a silly thing to go obsessing about a mare I had just met, why, I didn't even know her name. Besides, she was no doubt his marefriend.

But still, I went to the derby, and there she was, wearing a pale lavender hat that brought out her eyes. I did my best to stay away, to keep my eyes on the derby, but I couldn't help myself but watch her when the others weren't. I learned her name from another mare who was there that day.

Fleur. It was, I believe, the most perfect name in existence.

Perfect...oh, how that scared me! I couldn't develop feelings for this mare! I just couldn't. After the derby, I found myself pulled into their social circles, and at each party and event she was there. I forced myself to keep my distance. I did eventually learn that she was his sister, not his marefriend, but I still resolved to stay away.

I couldn't stop myself after a while though. I had to properly meet her, to learn everything about her.

I cursed myself for not being stronger.

Over the weeks of my stay in Canterlot, we became quite good friends. I learned that that she loved romance stories, just like me. That she loved the theater, and fashion shows, and string quartets, and boats, and cooking. Everything...just fit.

Yellow was her favorite color...I love yellow.

The best thing about her though, was how funny she was. She made me laugh, laugh so hard. It felt wonderful to laugh. In turn, I did my best to be amusing back, to make her feel as happy as I did when she made me smile and chuckle. Each little giggle that escaped from her lips was music to my ears, filling me with a tingly warmth down to my hooves. Hearing her laugh was the best thing in the entire world.

And that's when I realized...I was in love.

It was so wonderful, so terrifying. I had broken my oath, I had fallen in love with another mare.

And the worst part was how happy it made me.

I blew my friends off for Twilight's birthday party. I had felt awful, but it was more than just going to an important party, I left the day after that. I wanted another day with her. When my friends came, I was happy to see them, but that didn't stop me from sneaking out to the garden, just trying to spend fragments of moments near her.

The time always felt too short.

When my friends found me, came out to the garden party, I shied away from them. I feared that if she saw me with them, she might judge me. It was such a relief when he stepped in, asking me to introduce them to my friends. She got along so well with them...knowing how well she fit into my life made my heart ache.

On my final day, they all threw me a party to say goodbye. I made myself a promise that at the party, I would tell her how I felt. It had just become too much to bear.

I found her there at that final party, in a group of them standing next to a table, discussing something in hushed tones. I had walked over and squeezed my way in. On the table was the center of their conversation. It was an article from the newspaper about two mares in Manehatten campaigning to get the same-sex marraige ban lifted from the city. They wanted to get married.

"It's wrong!" he cried, "Mares should not love mares, and stallions should not love stallions! It's the way things are!" I watched in horror as she gave an affirmative nod, disgust at the idea of such a thing clear on her face.

Knowing then that she would never love me back, not because of who I was or because of somepony else, but because she believed it wrong for somepony such as I to love another mare such as herself, it broke my heart.

I moved through the rest of the party in a blind daze. I smiled and exchanged polite comments, while with every step I heard my heart go clink...clink. It wasn't just broken...it was shattered.

That night, I slipped into my bed and cried myself to sleep. I cursed myself for falling in love even when I knew it would come to no good. I wanted to hate her for what she had said, for the fact that she could never return my feelings...but I couldn't. Even after that, I still loved her.

She and some other friends I had made during my stay had promised to come to bid me farewell as I left on the afternoon train the next day. That morning, I packed my bags early, and left on the early train to Ponyville.

I didn't say goodbye.

Author's Notes:

This idea came to me yesterday and just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.
Hope you enjoyed.

(Although never referred to by name, anytime "he" is used, it is indeed Fancy Pants)