It's a scene I've seen so many times in my dreams, with white lacy ribbons tied into bows around polished pews, their occupants in bright colorful dresses and dark sharp suits. A single, long aisle separates the rows and rows of benches, where a path of rose petals leads to a raised platform underneath white woven arch. Princess Celestia's sun shines through the stained glass as the organ player preps his instrument. A few mares cry softly into handkerchiefs, along with a certain white stallion in the back whose mustache droops as it soaks up his tears.

It's a scene I've seen so many times in my dreams, from dreams that will never come true.

I remember the confusion I felt when I received the invitation. I've had my share of perplexing documents, serving as Princess Twilight Sparkle's number one assistant. The utter lack of rationale in those annual budget estimates left me with smaller headaches than that little whimsical card she had sent me, with that polite and personalized salutation and a date, location, and request for prompt répondez s'il vous plaît in that fancy curvy penmanship that brought my own to shame.

Headaches, heartaches, pain.

I should have been happy for her, happy that she was happy, that she found someone to love whom loved her back. And I was, I continued to tell myself in order to try and drown out all the unfair accusations thrown at her, all the angry screams that tore out from my heart. Why not me, I heard myself cry. Why not me?

Greedy selfish thoughts. Appropriate for a dragon. I believe I've grown a few inches since the day I received her invitation. I had to ask her for a new tuxedo. She's the only seamstress that bothers making clothes for a dragon. Even when she was busy with her own ensemble and with all those necessary preparations that came with a wedding, she found the time to sew me a new jacket, shirt, and trousers. The pockets were even lined with tiny little diamonds.

She's filled with such generosity, how could I ever bring myself to hate her for finding happiness, for finding love? How could she had known writing that little message on the back of my card would bring me such pain?

I didn't have to come. I don't have to be here. She said it was fine, written on the back of the invitation, if being here was too painful, if it hurt too much to see her on this day, in this scene I've seen so many times in my dreams.

It hurts just as much as she imagined, probably more.

Princess Twilight Sparkle stands on the podium, next to some lucky stallion in a suit and his friends. Even in the simple dress she wears, the princess appears regal. No one notices the sad glance she throws at me when her eyes fall upon my unique figure in the crowd. I wish she wouldn't. It's not about me today after all. It's about...her.

Twilight thought about refusing this honor, this privilege, for my sake, and I hated that. My arguments were passionate, admittedly harsh even, but I'd like to think I helped persuade her to accepted the job, for our lovely friend. For her sake.

Friend. That is all I am to her now. Perhaps even good friend, but that is all. No anger this time, the flames of misplaced rage have finally burned out, leaving behind the cold ashes of dejection.

I should move on, I say to myself. She's found her happiness, isn't it time I found mine? What good is it to be depressed, I ask myself. She would want me to move on, wouldn't she? This would be the first step, acceptance. See her walk down the aisle, wearing a gorgeous white dress and veil, carrying a bouquet. Watch her stand next to that stallion, watch them exchange vows and rings...and kiss. Watching them cut that giant delicious cake together, watching them slowly dance together, watching them leave in that carriage with horseshoes tied to the back together.

It'll all be over soon, like tearing off a bandaid, or so I am told. Few cuts get through tough, draconic scales after all, and the ones that do necessitate more than simple bandaids. The analogy still stands, it'll all be over soon, and then I'll be able to move on.

Won't I?

How can I move on? Find my own happiness? Impossible, I've already found it, and I'm forcing myself to watch it disappear, stolen away by some other stallion. Why isn't it me who will stand next to her, who'll exchange vow and rings and kisses? Why isn't it me who'll hold that knife with her as the wedding cake is cut for the guests? Why not me?

Selfish greedy dragon, it's not about you.

Why isn't it, though? Why isn't it? I can accept that it is her day, that is fine, that I can accept, but why isn't it our day? Why must I sit here in the audience and watch while another stands on the podium, next to where she will stand?

Because you were too slow. Because you were too cowardly, afraid of rejection. You've always been fearful of being rejected, of being abandoned by the ones you care for, by the ones you, I, love.

And so I, you, waited, convinced that if I waited long enough, when I grew older, I would be ready. If I was older, I told myself, she would accept me. Soon, so very soon, I would find the courage to ask for her love in exchange for me, myself, and all that I was. I just needed some time, I told myself, to build up me, myself, and all that I was into something worthy of her love. I just had to wait patiently.

She...didn't. She didn't wait.

And why would she? Why should she? You, I, waited too long. He was the brave one, the faster one. His resolve was stronger than mine. My rival? What a delusion, he had won before it even began, because I was too afraid to even crawl to battlefield.

A victory by default, it should not count.

But it does, and it should, for she doesn't need a coward by her side.

I'm no coward. Would a coward deny the demands of demonic oppressors? Would a coward stand his ground at the sight of a colossal wooden monstrosity for the sake of a friend?

A coward in all that matters.

I am here now, aren't I?

And why are you here? For closure? In order to find a peaceful ending to this chapter of your life? To support a friend and wish her happiness? Or perhaps it is something a little more selfish. Perhaps...

Don't say it!

Do you think I can win her back?

The music begins to play. Those simple chords fill the room, the acoustics amplifying each note the organ releases that mixes harmoniously with the string quarter. The doors swing open, and we all turn our heads. I ignore the glares those behind me are shooting me, can I help it that I'm tall?

Out skip a pair of fillies I don't recognize in little white gowns, each carrying a basket filled with flowers. They are followed by six mares, each wearing beautiful dresses, all unique, all created by her with the assistance of an old friend from Manehattan, who walks down the aisle with the rest of the bridesmaids.

Her sister takes the lead, in a magnificent design I've never seen before, with a complementing, radiant smile.

For once, Applejack is not wearing her hat. I've never seen Rainbow Dash walk with such grace; fly perhaps, but never walk. Even with every eye upon her, Fluttershy keeps her head high, and somehow, Pinkie Pie isn't acting like...well, like Pinkie Pie.

They all know how important this day is to her, how much it means to her happiness. We all do. I do, don't I?

Wouldn't she be happier with me? Is this really what's best?

For her, or for you, me?

For the both of us.

Don't be selfish. It's not about me today.

But why can't it be? Why can't it be us?

Because...

She appears. Her dress, a perfect blend of traditional designs and her own exotic artistic vision, leaves me breathless. Her beautiful face is hidden behind a veil, and all I can see are those rosy lips of hers, but it is enough to push me to the brink. I can barely stop myself from standing up at the sight of her, the perfect bride. My perfect--

Control the beast, restrain yourself.

I've seen those lips before, in my dreams. I've seen her gracefully make her way down this aisle, in my dreams. She is nearly there, at the white woven arch where her friends stand, waiting like in my dreams.

Wake up.

She stands next to some stallion, their backs turned toward us, to me, as Twilight stands at the front and smiles broadly, just like she rehearsed.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Miss Rarity and..."

Someone, wake me up. I've seen enough. Please, someone wake me up now.

"...for better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish from this day forward until the final departure?"

"I do."

Look how happy she is. Let her be happy. Don't ruin it for her.

"May we have the rings?"

Spike...wants...

I want her to be happy.

She's better off...

"...should there be any reason..."

Last chance, time to decide. Her joy, or mine?

Ours...

"...that these two should not bound together in legal and holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."