>The rain covers this foreign land in sheets, providing nourishment to the parched landscape.
>Looking outside your closed window, the water beats against the glass.
>Fall was never your favorite season, you hated the rain and watching everything die.
>It's just another part of life that we all have to endure.
>In the dark of night in your bedroom, lit by a single candle, you hold a pen in hand and stare blankly at a sheet of paper that mimics your gaze.
>You take out your pen, and begin to write.
 
>When you were on Earth, you wrote all the time. In fact, you did your best to make a living off of your writing.
>Everything changed when you appeared in Equestria.
>While the multicolored inhabitants of this land accepted you with open arms, you missed your family.
>Especially your son, Michael.
>He was your inspiration and your drive.
>Even when the world came crashing down around you, he was the reason to keep going.
"Happy fifth birthday, son."
>You hold your head in your hands.
>Now, after several long years and countless nights of hoping, there was no way back to Earth.
>You wished there was some form of sign or message you could send to them, to tell them everything would be okay as well as what happened.
>Yet, Equestria was now your home, and he won't be able to grow up without his father.
>You just hope his mother doesn't make him hate you.
>The candle extinguishes itself, and the only light in the room comes from the radiant moon.
>Another night of writer's block.
>It infuriated you to the core.
>If you can't write, what are you good for?
>Exasperated, you say to no one in particular.
"What is my purpose here?"
>The room provides no answer for you.
>Basic tasks were becoming harder everyday.
>It was a rare occasion when you would leave your house.
>Simply because you wanted to be alone.
>At the same time, you just wished someone here would understand your pain.
>Mr. Cake couldn't begin to imagine a life without his son.
>Caramel couldn't imagine a life outside of Ponyville.
>The only person who would listen was your therapist, Twilight.
>She wasn't professionally trained by any means, but she had an ear and knew how to use it.
>Shuffling to the bed, too tired to change out of your clothes, you lay on top of the covers.
>Even though you've done nothing all day, your will isn't quite what it used to be.
>You aren't even sure if you ate anything.
>You aren't even sure if you have food in the house.
>Closing your eyes, you pray the one solitude in your life comes to you quickly.
 
>You wake up to the brilliant shine of light through your open window.
>Birds are singing outside and the trees are beginning to turn a bright orange.
>To any other human, this surely would be a beauty to behold.
>All you feel is pain.
>All you feel is tired.
>All you feel is guilt.
>You turn over underneath your covers, and ball yourself for self-comfort.
"It's just another day. One more day."
>Today you had to go talk to Twilight.
>You haven't been filling out your journal like she asked.
>She wanted you to write down every good thing that happened in a day.
>Every night before you try to write, you would do your best to write down your successes.
>Over time, successes in your life became harder and harder to find.
>I wrote a short story.
>I made a cake.
>I watered my flowers.
>I went outside.
>I answered the door.
>Today's success would have to be 'I got out of bed'.
>You haven't really been able to work up the desire to do anything.
>Starting the shower, you give yourself a good hard look in the mirror.
>Your eyes were bloodshot, and you haven't shaved in days.
>You have to make yourself look nice for Twilight, or else she might get upset.
>Looking down, you see the orange bottle that keeps you half as sane as you currently are.
>After taking one pill, you get into the shower and wash yourself.
>You take a moment to let the warm water wash over you, staring at the ground.
>The shower was the only safe place that you could cry.
>Sitting down, you hold your head in your hands.
>Another day.
>One more day.
>It gets better, just one more day.
>After nearly 500 days, things only feel like they have gotten worse.
>Shutting off the water, you step out into the cold air and shave the hair off your face.
>After getting dressed in your favorite shirt and jeans, you head downstairs.
>Looking in the kitchen, and weighing all your options, you choose to drink water for breakfast.
>One positive thing about your depression is that you were finally able to lose all that excess body fat.
>Now you are as skinny as a rail.
>That's improvement!
>Right?
>... Right?
>You sit in your living room and stare out the main window at the wilderness around you.
>The bunnies hopped around so gracefully with their children, while squirrels began to gather nuts for the winter.
>You wish you could be like them.
>To be with their family.
>Knowing exactly what their purpose is in life.
>Here in Equestria there was nothing.
>You hear a knock at the door.
>Just like every other morning, you ignore it.
>One of these days Fluttershy will just have to learn that her efforts are in vain.
>She opens the door quietly.
>"Uhm... Anon? I-it's me. I'm... I'm coming in." She says timidly.
>Entering the house, she finds you on the couch and she seats herself next to you.
>You never shift your eyes from outside.
>"Good morning Anon!" she says in the most positive tone she can muster.
"Hey." You reply meekly.
>"Um... D-did you sleep well last night?" She asks with a hopeful smile.
"I guess so."
>"That's good."
>You don't understand this mare.
>For the longest time, she just wanted to figure out your fetish was in the hopes of winning you over.
>Now, things feel different.
>"Did you have anything for breakfast this morning?"
>You shake your head.
>She sighs. "Anon, you really need to take care of yourself. You look almost sickly. Let me go get you a bowl of cereal."
>Watching her flutter into the kitchen, you almost wish that she would go back to guessing.
>You hated being babied by her.
>You're positive she thinks you can't live on your own.
>She returns with a bowl of cereal, with cut up pieces of fruit mixed in.
>"I-I brought the fruit today as a present." She smiles widely and squeaks.
"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry I guess."
>She looks at you exasperated. "Please? Just a few bites? For me Anon?"
>You look into her eyes.
>Fluttershy was always the motherly type, considering how well she took care of all of her animal friends, but when she was with you, her eyes told a different story.
"Okay, I suppose."
>She smiles and gently hands you the spoon with her hoof.
>The cereal goes down your throat like sandpaper, and every bite feels like choking.
>Just eating felt like a tiresome chore that nearly winded you.
>The warm smile on her face pressured you to eat on.
>When you would cough up the larger pieces, she rubbed your back to make sure you were alright.
>Finishing the bowl, you put the spoon back in the bowl and stare at the floor.
"Thanks." You say somberly.
>"It was nothing!" She smiles widely. "When is your meeting with Twilight?"
"In about 15 minutes."
>"Oh! Well you better get going then! You don't wanna be late."
>You think over her words.
"Yeah... I guess."
>Standing up, you make your way to the door.
>"Um... Anon?"
>Stopping in the doorway, without turning yourself, you wait for her to speak.
>"Um.. W-would you mind if... if I stayed here for a while?"
"I don't care."
>Walking out of your home, you knew you couldn't stop her.
>What was the point?
>She broke into your home several times before, and the doors in this world didn't have locks.
>You make your way into town. Counting the number of times you can kick the pebble in front of you.
>About 5, before you lost track of it.
>Your feet knew the way to Twilight's place instinctively, so you didn't look up as you passed through the marketplace.
>"Howdy there Anon! How ya doin today!"
>You walk by without acknowledgment. Unable to see Applejack's concerned eyes.
>"Hey! Come on back tomorrow and I'll be sure to give you some fresh cider now ya hear? On me!"
>Her eyes watch you until you are out of sight.
>Passing by Carousel Boutique, Rarity places some new dresses and suits in the display window until she sees you.
>She smiles and waves as hard as she can, but ultimately in vain, as you began counting the pieces of stray grass.
>Reaching the front door of the Ponyville Library, you look at the door with a feeling of hopelessness.
>How long do you need to keep coming here?
>When were you going to begin to start feeling better?
>Shouldn't the pills be helping?
>You raise your hand to knock, when Twilight answers the door.
>"Anon! Come on in! I was getting worried. You aren't normally late."
>The hopelessness sets in.
"Sorry."
>She recoils. "No! That wasn't what I meant. Well, come on in. I'm sure we got lot's to talk about."
>The two of you sit down in opposite chairs as you fill her in on everything you did this week.
>You told her that you kept trying to write, but ultimately you failed.
>Tried to nurse your dying garden back to life, but even that was unsuccessful.
>Even fed her a lie and said you tried to bake a cake, and succeeded.
>The smoke smell still isn't completely gone.
>"Well thats good! How is your journal coming?"
>You look at the ground, unsure how to answer.
"I haven't been doing it."
>"Huh? Why?"
"Nothing really great has happened this week, so what's the point?"
>"That's not true. I'm sure lots of wonderful things happened around you today. You just need to look out into the world and see what's happening."
>It's true. The ground has recently became your best friend.
"I suppose you're right."
>Hours pass as the two of you talk about writing, about your time on Earth, your son.
>You simply bottle up all of the pain, to try and convince Twilight that she is helping to cure you.
>She always was so proud of herself when she thought she was doing a great job.
>You didn't want to take that from her.
>"Well, I think that's about all the time we have for today. It's almost dinner time.
"Thanks Twilight."
>You step up and begin to walk out of the room.
>Then turning back, you decide to ask one final question.
"Twilight?"
>"Yeah Anon?" She's organizing her notes into her 'good session' folder.
>You know she liked to keep organized, but labeling her folders made it obvious when she thought you were healing and when you weren't
>She had the one good folder, and the cabinet of bad folders.
"When... When does everything stop being so... hard?"
>She looks at you, and gives you the signature answer that you repeat yourself every morning.
>"Just take it a step at a time Anon. It'll all get better. You just have to give it time."
>Looking back to the door, tears well up in your eyes.
"Thanks."
>You probably didn't do a good job at convincing her that you were fine today.
>Blowing your cover on way out the door like that causes Twilight to pause.
>After you move outside, Twilight takes her notes out of her good folder, and makes her way over to the file cabinet with a disappointed sigh.
>"What am I going to do with him?"
 
>Slowly dragging yourself back towards your home, the cork on your bottle feels like it's reached its limit.
>Everything is seething to the surface.
>Your old life.
>The time when all of the ponies loved you.
>When talking with Twilight left her with a feeling of pride and joy on her face.
>A time when everything wasn't so hard.
>Your slow walk manages to get you home at sundown.
>All you want to do is go to sleep.
>You are tired.
>Tired of everything.
>Tired of the talks with Twilight.
>Tired of trying to find a reason to get up in the morning.
>Tired of all the pain.
>You enter your dimly lit home.
>You head straight up to your room, failing to notice the freshly swept floors.
>Unable to see the spotless kitchen, or homemade meal waiting for you inside it with a concerned yellow pegasus.
>You move into your bathroom, tears streaming down your face.
>Tearing off your shirt, you wash your face.
>The things you've kept bottled up inside all break open, as you become inconsolable.
>Why did this have to happen to you?
>Why did everything have to be so hard?
>Every day was the same feeling of hope that tomorrow things might be better.
>Yet, tomorrow never came.
>Taking it a day at a time wasn't working anymore.
>Maybe it never really worked to begin with.
>You grab the bottle of pills sitting on your sink.
>Staring at the bottle you wonder how long it would take.
>Ten minutes?
>Fifteen minutes?
>An hour?
>The pain of living from day to day would be gone.
>It would be just like falling asleep.
>The only thing that would ease your pain every day.
>You open the cap, staring down at the pink pills.
>The medication that was made to cure your depression.
>You were just ready for your cure.
>Downing the whole bottle, you swallow to let every bit of your saving grace reach your stomach.
>You bring your hands down to your side, and smile.
>Leaning back against your sink, and closing your tired eyes.
>You pray the last solitude of your life comes to you quickly.
 
>You are Fluttershy
>You probably shouldn't have came in the storm last night to see if he was okay, but you were happy you did. He was so cold.
>You shift in your seat, wondering if you did everything you needed to tonight.
>Washed Anon's clothes for tomorrow? Check.
>Meal? Check.
>Made his bed? Check.
>Maybe he isn't sleeping well again. You should offer to stay the night tonight.
>You wonder to yourself as you wait for him in the kitchen.
>Maybe having someone there for him is what he needs. He talks about missing his family... maybe he just needs someone help him not be so alone.
>You keep trying to convince yourself that what you were doing is helping Anon.
>Seeing him like this all the time hurts more than anything.
>You knew he didn't like the fetish guesses, but you saw it as your only option at first.
>Soon, you saw that Anon was feeling sadder every day, so you stopped.
>You even stopped reading his journal since you began to feel guilty.
>Now you would simply settle just to see him smile.
>He went upstairs to the bathroom about 10 minutes ago.
>Maybe you should check on him.
>Just to see if everything is okay.
 
>Your eyes open, dazed.
>"Stay awake for me Anon! Please!"
>Her right hoof hits you in the face, but you barely feel it.
>Fluttershy has tears falling from her eyes in sheets, as if looking outside during a fall storm.
>"Stay awake!"
>She pulls you over to the toilet and forces you to throw up everything you could.
>"Help is coming Anon just stay awake! You can't leave me!"
>Medical stallions grab you and pull you into a carriage with flashing blue and red lights.
>Their conversation blends together into chaos as they hook you up to various machines to get the drug out of your system.
>Fluttershy sits in the back with them, holding your hand.
>Every ounce of sadness, hate, guilt and suffering comes out in one large breakdown.
>It would be a long night in Ponyville Emergency.
 
>When you wake up, clean of the poison inside you, you look around the room to see Fluttershy asleep, hunched over your bed.
>The clock on the wall says 5am.
>Her mane is ruffled and you feel that your right hand is wet.
>Holding your hand to her face, you identify the source.
>Tears.
>It was hard to imagine someone who would have cared if you left this world.
>You knew that Fluttershy really liked you, but... not like this.
>Yet here she was, glued to your side.
>She really wasn't so bad.
>She helped make the little challenges of everyday not seem so tough for a little while.
>Sometimes she even made you push your limits and try for more.
>You stroke her mane with your right hand.
>"...uhnn.. Anon?"
>She gradually stirs from her slumber.
>You look into her tired eyes, and worried face.
>As you stroke her mane, you realize your face begins to feel tight.
>Almost as if you've never spoke before, and suddenly began to give a world-changing speech.
>As if you've been stuck in a wheelchair for years, and finally decided to stand up.
>She looks into your eyes and begins to shed more tears.
>These aren't tears of sorrow, but rather tears of joy.
>For the first time, in a long time, you had a natural smile.
 
>After that night, you moved in with Fluttershy.
>You decided to let her into your life permanently.
>You still aren't sure why you didn't consider it sooner.
>For a while your meetings with Twilight became more frequent, out of concern for your well being, but soon she decided you didn't need help anymore.
>The doctors eventually took you off of the pills for the sheer lack of need for them.
>Every day was a fresh new adventure, with fresh new reasons to explore the world.
>Every day there was something beautiful to be had around every corner.
>Every day there was a beautiful smiling face to greet you in the morning, that wouldn't need to ask if you slept well last night.
>She knew you haven't slept this well in years.
>All you knew was that every evening you crawled into bed with your tender yellow pegasus, and before you closed your eyes, you reminded yourself.
>There is always a reason to look forward to the next day.
 
>You sit back in your chair and look down upon your new literary creation. Depicting the story of the last few months of your life.
>Looking behind you, the mare of your dreams rests peacefully.
>Before you join her, you decide there is one last thing you need to do for yourself.
>Pulling out your journal that Twilight wanted you to write in, you move to the final page.
>You left this page blank on purpose for this very reason.
>You begin your final entry.
"Dear Journal. My success for today, is that I finally found tomorrow. It was really today all along."