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    Written while listening to Like A Child – Cinematic Mix by Tony Anderson.

    It was always worse at night. 

    When things were quiet, and Pinkie had left, and Incantation was asleep, and all the company she had were her own thoughts. The thoughts that haunted her when she had nothing else to do, when she couldn’t force herself to sew anymore, or read, or… 

    I miss Twilight. 

    The neverending thought, over and over, always there, like a mantra she knew was poisonous but couldn’t help repeating despite how hard she tried. She didn’t want to be like this. Fluttershy had said it once when she was visiting.

    “You should stop saying that, Rarity,”  she’d said, with kind eyes and well-meaning tone. “It’s not healthy for you.”

    It had taken great effort for Rarity not to snap back, “You think I want this?” 

    Instead, she’d smiled and said, “I know, darling. I’m trying.” 

    I miss Twilight. 

    She forced herself to stay still in bed, eyes closed, breathing in and out. She tried to block it out, because it had been over six months now, and she was supposed to be fine now. And she was, sometimes. Sometimes she’d go days without thinking of Twilight except for an idle thought here and there, but she was fine and okay for days, and then.

    Then something would hit her. 

    Something silly like… like a joke one of the foals had made, and then she’d think to herself Twilight would have found that funny, but Twilight was gone so she couldn’t exactly tell her. And then the thought stayed past eating time, past closing time, past nighttime, until she was lying in bed and there was nothing else but the thought. 

    Please, she would think, let me fall asleep. I just want it to be tomorrow. 

    Because maybe tomorrow would be better. 

    Please, I just want to sleep. 

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    1. Cynewulf
      Apr 14, '23 at 9:49 am

      The brief flash of anger is really relatable. You’re irritable in mourning, but you’re also just… you feel a lot, all the time. Everything comes out in flashes.