I just realized I got way off-topic by the end of my last chapter.

I was talking about Minty Swirl, right?

I told her I'd likely be leaving for military school, and that I'd write every chance I got.

She smiled, "I love your letters." I wrote letters to her all the time, because I loved telling her things, and I knew she loved my writing.

"You'll get one every week, if I can help it." I hugged her. She had a very soft hug, heart-warming, but not safe. "You'll write back?"

"As long as I can help it."

Despite being embraced in her warm hug, I suddenly felt distant. For some reason I didn't believe her. For some reason I had trust issues, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never remember where they originated. I could not help but believe she would eventually stop replying. I sobbed.

She felt it and tried to hold me closer. I broke away, my quivering lip making an awkward sucking sound as I tried to stop crying.

"I'm sorry," she said. She thought it was her fault.

"No," I grunted, "it's me." There wasn't much context. Why couldn't I talk? Could I even tell her the truth if I tried? Could I tell her I didn't believe her, and that I suddenly hated her for lying and breaking her promise, even though she hadn't even had the chance? Could I break her heart? "I just..." I had to change my mind. "I'm glad I have a friend like you. But I'm afraid I'll lose you."

"Oh Timber." She stepped closer, but didn't try to hug me again. She knew I didn't want another one right now. "Did you lose somepony before?"

A memory flashed back: a colt named Fire Ruby. He was a friend of mine for years: since we were foals. We were the same age, minus four days exactly. He'd always tease me for being younger, pulling old man jokes like "Back in my day," only to describe something he'd done four days ago.

His parents weren't the best couple, but we might have been. If only his dad stayed around. Once they split, he had to go back and forth a lot. We got in touch as much as possible, which was truly quite often. Our mothers were good friends also, so arranging get-togethers was never hard.

But despite our best efforts, he grew away. His dad showed more affection, especially after his mom met somepony else and had other foals. I got to see him less and less. Eventually he stopped writing back.

I backed against the library wall, far behind a bookcase. It was where we regularly hid, but that was the first time I'd cried there. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force back tears, and curled up on the floor.

"Was it Loaf?" I flinch when she asks. Of course she'd bring him up. I don't blame her, but of course she would. "Is that why you were thinking about tombs?" I took a sharp gasp, pushing my glasses up to rub my eyes. I forget to put them back, my glasses.

Loaf had of course died the year after we met. It was some accident; his barn collapsed and caught fire in the same hour. Loaf's father made it out, he did not. I wasn't invited to his funeral, but I don't know if I would have made it through anyhow. I'd gotten over him, pushed him from my thoughts.

Then of course she'd bring him up.

"Hey, it's ok." She laid down beside me and began stroking my mane with her hoof. "It's ok to let it out."

"Stop... analyzing me..." I commanded through agitated sobs and an eye-full of hoof.

"Oh Timber," she paused, still stroking my mane. "What if, somepony is supposed to?" What a stupid question. "What if you're too emotional to think straight? You'll need me to find out what's wrong."

I didn't answer. Despite what I thought, I couldn't risk driving her away.

"I believe that you resent Loaf, in some way."

Wrong.

"You hold some hatred that he left you behind without saying goodbye."

No.

"You had some more to tell him, and now you'll never get the chance."

True.

"And now you're angry with him, and with yourself."

Half true. The part about myself.

So one and a half out of four, close but no good. "Yeah," I said, despite everything, "maybe." I breathed more deeply and calmed a bit.

"Usually it's best to let go of the past." She was obviously not professional, but I couldn't blame her for trying. "Try to forgive him, forgive yourself, and move on."

I had moved on, but the last thing I need is reminders. I only believed that these tears were overdue and anything could have set them off at this point, I mostly blamed her. But I love her, she's my friend, and a great one at that. It was my fault. I felt jealous of my past self, and only wanted back what I had with Fire Ruby, and later with Loaf. What I have with Minty Swirl is great, but it isn't everything. She knows that, and she's fine with that, but because she knows that, she'll only try harder to make me happy.

"You ok?" She asked, once I've finally calmed down.

"Yeah," I responded quietly, pushing my glasses back into place.

That was the first time anypony told me to let go of the past, even though I already knew better. I know to forget bad times, or things that make me sad. If I didn't do that, I'd still be scarred from the bullies in grade school.

I didn't need Minty to teach me what I already knew. I needed to teach her something new; that the past isn't always best forgotten. Sometimes, bad things happen so we learn, and if we forget what happened we might as well forget the lesson.

When I finally stood up to the bullies (if you call losing my temper and screaming at them in the middle of school "standing up"), I was ashamed, embarrassed. I thought I would get in trouble for yelling, and almost hitting one of them. I thought everyone would act differently around me, like I was a weak spring in a mattress; you don't mean to avoid it, but it's slightly less comfortable than what you expect.

The teachers sent me home. My mother hugged me, told me she was proud of me. Sure I hadn't handled it in the best possible way, but I stood up to them. What's more, I had managed to keep my temper for so long. While it may have seemed unhealthy, she was only proud. I showed incredible strength, and when I broke I proved that they were messing with the wrong pony.

When I went back to school, everypony seemed friendlier. The bullies were moved to a different class, but even in middle school I never even heard from them. I'd hear about them, gossip saying how they'd break rules.

For the longest time, I'd hated remembering how I overreacted to those bullies. I hated thinking I could get so worked up, lose my temper and act so irrationally. After some time, though, I remembered how proud my mother was, and how friendly my classmates were. I learned from that, I learned. I discovered for myself that holding my temper isn't very good, and that I didn't ever want to be that angry, shouting monster ever again.

And from then I learned that I shouldn't always forget. Loaf helped me learn what I really wanted, and Fire Ruby may have taught me, too, I just don't know how yet.

"Thanks Minty," I said.