Dear Princess Celestia –

Over the years, I've been less than stellar socially. It wasn't a big deal in magic kindergarten. Then, everypony was just as similar as the next or the one before them. However, we got older and found out talents, made new friends, inherited our unique marks. We became individuals—emphasis on the "divide" root of that word. Despite being mature, I was still a "blank flank" without any fellow Crusaders at my side to help me out. The situation improved only slightly in middle school, when I gained a few friends.

My transition to high school was much like Twilight Sparkle's move to Ponyville. I just wanted to get in, then out, doing whatever was needed to further my studies. Despite my minimalist approach, I ended up making friends. Good ones, for the most part. Some have hurt me and forced me into years of awful, unimaginable pain. Despite those few, I've also made friends that I've needed: the ones who help me to see I'm not always right, that I'm a good friend, that I'm loved more than I'd initially realize.

The ones I've needed are the ones I cherish the most. I'm still a "blank flank," but I get closer to finding my Cutie Mark each day. When I'm there as a hoof to hold or shoulder to cry on or when I make memories with them, I feel like I'm finding who I'm going to be. "I get by with a little help from my friends" says so much in just ten words.

I've stupidly decided to write this while working on my studies of a non-magical variety. Big mistake. I think about what writing to you often implies, and I get butthurt by my own doing. Sending you a letter implies the lesson's been learnt and everything's going to be fine. But my lesson is nowhere near finished in my eyes.

Going to high school gave me the opportunity to meet and make a dear friend. He's the kind of friend you can honestly say you're lucky to have. I've learned a lot about the world, myself, and others through him. The unfinished lesson? He's the reason I've learned it. In knowing him, I've seen that it's possible to respect and care for somepony in a pure-hearted, platonic way, I've realized that somepony can be a rock for others when you'd never even suspect them of having that strength, and I can finally understand how truly amazing it is to have somepony who, even if you disagree, can listen to you when you need it. I'm proud he's my friend.

He was worth the seventeen-year-long wait.

This friend I keep talking about, Princess? I'm proud of him. He's worked hard, studied hard. He's going on to his next academic endeavor. Wherever he goes, he'll be great. I know that. But knowing I may not see him as often hurts. It's stupid to be so attached to some physical interaction like a hug, but, to me, it's safe place to land. To me, a full-on hug says "I'm here" in ways one new text message or a Skype video chat can't. It's a stupid thing, I know. Part of me wants him to stay so badly, I could cry. But I won't. He told me about this poem one time, about a guy talking to his girlfriend or lover or special somepony. The guy said to her, if she cried, that she didn't really love him, that all that mattered was the physical. So I won't cry, Princess. I need to quiet that part of me. I have to wordlessly and tearlessly let him know I'll miss him but I do understand why he has to go, that I'll support him no matter where he's needed. I may not be his "special somepony," but he's special to me in the way only a true friend can ever be.

I guess if there is one lesson I think I've fully learned, it's that letting go is hard. You start to think of all the memories you have made or should have made, suddenly getting the feeling that what you did wasn't enough. All the fights seem petty, as they most likely were. But you learn to look on the bright side. You fully appreciate making those memories. I know I do. The memories I've made with this friend of mine are priceless treasures. Trying to spray his hair so he'd look like Rainbow Dash . . . All those times we went to IHOP . . . Supporting the plays at his school, then having him do the same for mine . . . Talking on Skype for hours, all the way into the early morning, even though we'd spent the entire afternoon together . . . Writing just a few of my memories with him helps me see just how truly magical they were. It'll be hard to let him go. I know that. But I have to and I will.

Princess: I think he and I can get through this. We'll say good-bye for now—and only for now. We'll keep in touch. I'll send letters to him, real ones like this. Maybe even a care package. Birthday card, Christmas card. Pictures. Maybe even a stuffed animal. I'll send tacky Texas souvenirs. Whether he likes it or not, he'll get them. He'll get them to his absolute horror and his roommate's not-so-secret (sadistic) delight—if he has one. But we'll laugh about it together if he gets to come home and visit or on Skype.

I can do it, Princess. I can be strong without him. After all, if I can be the strong one for him when we're together or when I'm alone but he's in the state, I can do with without him. I've shown him I can be strong. I need to believe in myself, to do it. I'll be fine without him. He'll be plenty fine without me. We'll be fine. We'll get through the separation.

I promise, Princess, I'll get my Cutie Mark by the next time he sees me. You'll be proud. So will he, I'm sure. I can't wait until I get it, but I'll be patient.

That unfinished lesson I mentioned earlier? It's how to be a great friend. I'm still learning it. It's really hard to always be there for your friends. Sometimes they're having drama in the midst of a personal crisis, and it's hard having to be selfless. But you force yourself to drop everything and go. My friend taught me that in early December: I told him about a darker part of my life, and he wanted to drop everything (homework, chores, the senior year demands) just to give me a hug. Then there are those times when you just need to be a listening ear for somepony to realize how good of a friend you are. I had the opportunity to learn that with him in February: sitting there as he talked and cried, wordlessly but willingly holding his hoof. And there are times when you can just be with them and talk about anything, memorable conversations morphing out of a mindless, babbling tangent. I think there are too many times to count where this is the case, and I love that.

I love how my friendship with him is so . . . effortless easy natural.

To say a friendship is "effortless" or "easy" is a big load of crap. There are times when you clash and times you honestly hate their guts. I know I've had many days like those with this friend. But we get through them. We've become better friends because of it. I can honestly say I don't—and definitely won't—always agree with him. I'm not a filly: I know better than to think I ever will. I might not always like some of the choices he makes concerning serious matters like relationships or trivial ones like music, but I'll be sure put up with them. While I might not love his choices, I will tolerate them. Just like you always say to do: love and tolerate.

In the end, I guess I had to write to you, Princess. I think part of me knew I had to share a minute fraction of all those memories with you. Maybe I felt the need to analyze the friendship in such a way that your opinion would be rendered irrelevant, that I'd know what kind of a friendship I've gotten myself into without needing your advice or an intervention. Maybe I just wanted to talk to you. I don't know. But it was definitely worth it to write to you, whatever the reason may be.

You see, I now appreciate my friendship even more.

He's the kind of subject you'd want in Equestria and the kind of friend you'd want one of your students to have. He listens, laughs, and loves when you need him to. He's got great hugs—when he does give a hug. He can talk about anything, and you want to listen. He's compassionate. He's adventurous (at times). There's room for improvement, but isn't there always? He's an egghead I love having him as a friend.

Thank you—or whatever force played their part in this—for sending him to me.

Your Faithful Student,

Twinkle Toes

(The story behind this peace is one about my personal friendship with an incredible brony. I'm very lucky to have met him. I can't give away all of the information but just know that he came in my life when I needed someone like him most, whether he knew it or not. In a few months, he will graduate from high school and move on to better things. Though it's March, I know I'll get busy when May rolls around, so I decided it'd be best if I wrote a farewell letter now, one that'd manage to show him just how much he means to me. Add in my flair for the over-the-top as well a knack for the sentimentality, and that is the birth of this fic. I hope by now he's read it and shed a few bittersweet tears. And I certainly hope you have too. )