I think I dreamed about Loaf during my nap. I seemed to be in limbo, stuck between the waking world and sleep. I know my pillow conforms nicely to my body, keeping me nice and warm from behind. My subconscious told me it was him, though. Dreams and memories seemed to intersect and I might have cried. Parts of that nightmare came back, the one I had from camp that night; my family disowning me, and me never getting to go back. My body believed I was with him, and when I woke up I was fully refreshed.

The serenity washing over me was like none I’ve ever felt. Not even comparable to the massage I’d had a few hours ago. When I opened my eyes, I knew I was alone. I loved the feeling of remembering him, but loved more that I had forgotten him. I was able to release him to the winding rivers of my memory and forget. I wondered why I felt ok with remembering him, and when I got out of bed I looked at the pillow and thought of Pearl. I have loving friends who are willing to help me through everything, be a refuge from despair, or fear. I may have my troubles with them, but every memory made helps me forget bad things. I may have panicked over my trouble remembering before, but that’s ok. Thanks to everything now I can let go of my past.

But I can’t forget, not even if I tried, that because of my past I have the chance to move forward. Loaf helped me realize what I want, what I need. Minty helped me learn how important it is to let certain things go. My father taught me to accept what I’m given, good and bad, but also that I can still emote any way I need. No pony’s telling me how to act, not anymore. If I don’t like something, or if I do, I’m allowed to be who I want.

I look up at the sky. The moon’s no longer visible, probably just because it’s not in the same place as it was before. I had written my morning down before my nap, and now I’ve begun the rest of my day. I haven’t even had it yet. What I am going to write about?

A thought just occurred to me. According to my alarm clock I slept for three hours. What a great nap, but I need to go make a phone call.

I run out to the phone booth and dial the theater. It rings five or six times, holding me in suspense. I really hoped no pony would pick up. Then there was an answer, “Hello?”

Dammit. “Noh?”

“Timber! What a surprise. I just got here and the phone was ringing. What’s up?”

I sigh heavily. I was seriously afraid I was late, having forgotten when we’d agreed to meet. “I was just hoping I wasn’t late. I couldn’t remember when I was supposed to be there, or even if we agreed on today.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I got here when I did. But yeah, I was pretty sure we agreed on five o’clock. I brought some sandwiches and cider.” What a guy.

“Ok, I just wasn’t sure. I’ll see you there.”

“Uh yeah, bye.” He stutters on the last word. I imagine he was prepared to converse for some time, but figured it’d be better to do so in person.

“Bye,” I respond. I hang up, then go back inside to gather a few things. I think I originally planned to bring my own dinner, or pick something up on the way. Now that I don’t have to do that, I shouldn’t bother bringing much, should I? I stow my plastic bag of goodies under my bed, as if somepony’s going to come home to my apartment without me and see. Anypony I know that would come to my apartment wouldn’t care about what was in the bag. But, they wouldn’t be able to get inside anyway, once I’ve locked it. What if one of my friends did decide to visit? I wasn’t sure any of them knew what I had planned for today.

I wrote a note to leave on my door, reading simply, “Gone for singing lessons. Leave a message.” I thought about putting a time when I’d be back, but that wouldn’t be until early in the morning. Which, by then I wouldn’t have much time before having to leave for work.

I prepare my saddle bags with everything I take to rehearsal every night, including a script, my personal notes, a notebook I liked to write my thoughts into that I rarely actually ever used, a few pencils, and some money. Oh, and my room key. Just before I left, I decided to bring my play with me. I can’t remember what inspired the decision, but I did it.

Tacking the note to my door, along with some loose paper and a pencil by the door (for messages), I rushed off to the theater. I didn’t want to keep Noh waiting.

When I get outside it’s starting to rain. My bags are reliably water-proof, and I didn’t care about getting wet. Plus, I didn’t actually have an umbrella. I did have my hat on, though, which I kept down over my eyes. It kept my glasses clear, which was great. I still hurried, so I wouldn’t keep Noh waiting much longer.

I left my things in my favorite corner back stage, hanging my bag and hat on hooks by an emergency door that nopony seemed to know about. Noh came to greet me with a warm smile. I think he was going to hug me, but I was wet.

“Sorry, it started raining,” I offer.

“I had assumed something like that,” he smirks. “I hope it doesn’t mess with your voice. Wait there.” He commands me to stay while he finds a towel. He comes back a few seconds later with a big bath towel from somewhere. “How has your day been?” He asks, watching me dry off.

I laugh, a little awkwardly, responding, “It was quite a ride, let me tell you.”

“Well if you don’t want to I understand.” He doesn’t sound like he sparing me, more like he just wants to get to business.

Too bad, “No it’s fine. I was just out shopping with Pearl. Usually things like that happen without a problem, right? Well, this time I opened a couple cans of leeches that just sucked, you know?” I thought it was a clever little analogy. “Anyway,” I give the towel back to him, “I was getting a little emotional, because I had started thinking about my family, and I was having trouble remembering some things. I figured anything would be better than being angry at her for going out.”

“Why were you angry at Pearl?” He asks, leading me out to the stage.

“Well, remember the presents Patches got me?

“Yeah…?” He recalls, uncomfortably.

“Yeah, Pearl told me it was a good idea to start using that toy, and took me out for some more ‘necessities.’ I won’t gross you out with the details.”

“Right, thanks,” he jokes.

I continue, “So after the altercation at the store, I try to lighten the mood for the walk home, asking her about her first job. She tells me her story, all the way to when I moved in. Well, moved to Manehatten. We’re not living together.” He’s nodding along, listening however passively. “We play around, joking about stories and…” I can’t seem to remember how it transitioned. “I think I almost got hit by a taxi.”

He reacts to that, “Well that’s something.”

“Yeah, I was deep in thought. She saved me. After that, whatever I was thinking about, I don’t remember, I—“ I start laughing suddenly.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just ironic. The whole thing started because I was having trouble remembering, and now I can’t remember what I was even thinking about.”

“That is pretty funny,” he agrees. “So what happened? You’re obviously all better now.”

“Oh right. Well, after thinking too hard for what must have been years, I discover I’ve been inadvertently ignoring questions from Pearl. I’m getting really frustrated with myself, forgetting things all over the place. I decide I want to go home. I have a, kind of, journal y’know? I’m sure something in there will remind me of what I was trying to remember. When I get home, I can’t even remember where I keep the stupid thing. I look through my desk and find a letter I received a few days ago, unopened, from my family. I read it, Pearl was there too, watching me react to all these things about my family. It just made me so happy to know how they were doing, how they felt. I was a little sad, hearing about my dad’s condition, and how much they all miss me.”

We’re sitting at the front of the stage now. Noh asks, “What about your dad?”

I shake my head. “If I tell you now we can’t get together for lunch tomorrow.” How did I remember that on a whim?

“Sure we can,” he claims. “We can find other stuff to talk about.”

“I’m not going to risk it.”

We only chatted for a few more minutes before I had to ask when the lesson would start. He began with tips on warming up, lots of scales and vocal exercises to make sure my throat was clear and my vocal chords were awake. Then he remembered dinner. Just a simple dandelion sandwich and juice box for each of us. I felt like a kid again, sitting on the floor drinking juice from a box. The warm ups brought me back to high school, a lot of them being the same as in chorus, or the theater club. Are warm ups universal? Are all singers taught the same ones just so they all know the same ones if they ever sing together?

We got back to the lesson, warming up again after eating. He asked me for a song I wanted to sing, but I couldn’t think of one. He chose a solo from the previous play. I already knew it well, but I had to practice it over and over. He gave me tips on how to be better, stuff like posture and diaphragm strength. I was sure I’d learned it all before, in high school chorus. I really enjoyed learning them again, though.