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// Don't Tell Me You're This Much of a Jerk. 
// Story: Abstract Love 
// by Faedelaide 
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It was weird when it first happened, when I first got that feeling, I mean. You ever get that feeling? It's like this... sorta primal fear. But it's not like a fear of death, or... like... pain or danger or anything you'd normally be scared of. It's the petrifying, undying fear of failure. I used to feel it before I went out on my own, back when I was living with... my parents, I believe? I was always terrified that I'd disappoint my parents, more so my dad. My mother was kind of a ghost, but in the metaphorical sense. I think we interacted about once a week, and even then, it was always just formalities. My dad always used to tell me that he'd always be proud of me, but I never listened. I worked and I worked until my hooves cracked, and all just to impress my barely existent mother, and my old, contented father. It got to the point that I rarely talked with either of them. When I left to further my career, I realized that I hadn't spoken with my father in months, and I continued to keep to myself until I met Rainfall. 

The morning after our trip to Hoofington's, that feeling came back again, and It was almost... nostalgic, y'know? It was so weird. We started talking with each other more and more, and all the while my anxiety only grew. I began to analyze every word I said. I pre-prepared entire conversation topics and jokes, all to not look like a failure in front of her. Luckily for me, it worked damn well. She laughed at my jokes, and we spent hours talking about art, food, media, just about everything really. She never even noticed that I'd practiced everything I said days in advance, at least I think she didn't notice. It didn't matter either way, because she was happy, so I was happy.

I think I should say now that we weren't a couple. Obviously, I would've jumped at the offer to be her partner, but I sure as hell wasn't gonna make the first move. If I did so, I'd look like a total creep. And what if she really was gay, or simply didn't like me that way? What then, we just act like nothing happened even though she'd now know how I felt about her? Absolutely not. I wasn't gonna risk it, so I stayed quiet, and continued writing my jokes and conversations. All to make her think I wasn't a failure, even when I was.

It was also at this time that my art career actually started taking off. When I wasn't working or hanging out with Rainfall, I was cooped up inside my studio, painting nonstop for hours on end. Many a sleepless night was spent in that studio, toiling away, trying to make a masterpiece that'd prove I was worth the space I took up. I went to art expos, auctions, and cultural centers of all kinds all winter. I must've done something right, because after weeks and weeks of trying, I finally got a letter in the mail that I was wanted for an interview by a local art magazine. I was ecstatic to say the least. This was exactly what I needed to rise the ranks of the art society. It was only a matter of time before rich dumbasses started buying my works for millions of bits at a time! Finally, I could prove I was something more than a useless clump of bone and fur!

Of course I told Rainfall about this, and she was excited too. I tell her that the interview's in maybe a month or so, and she responds by asking to see the studio. That stopped my brain in its tracks. Had I really not shown her my studio? Oh right, of course I didn't. I was so terrified of being a failure in her eyes, the only eyes that really mattered to me, that I never dared to show her my works. But now that she was asking, I didn't really have a choice, did I?

The trip was short, but the winter wind was starting to get to that point where you couldn't just go out wearing nothing anymore. She's all snuggled up in her coat like the adorable little treasure she is, so I open the door for her, and I'm glad I did, cuz that was when I got to see her eyes widen. I had... maybe ten paintings, I don't remember what they were, but she was definitely impressed. She starts zipping around the studio, gasping, oohing and aahing at every painting she sees. In retrospect, she was probably trying to be nice so as not to hurt my feelings, but I didn't notice at the time. I was too distracted by her smile.

I decide to bring her to my latest piece, which is not even close to finished, but she says it's beautiful anyway. She definitely hated them. I should've known better. Anyway, I start telling her my process, and she decides to lay patiently on an old futon I found on the side of the road. I'm explaining and telling her about my idea for my newest painting, and then I start spacing out again. And, like, in that moment, a brilliant idea comes to my head. So I look her in the eyes and ask, "Rainfall, do you wanna be the subject of a portrait?"

By Celestia you should've seen how her eyes lit up. "I get to be in a painting? Do I get to be in your interview too!?" I laughed my ass off. She was always so full of energy, a bright shining star next to the dull little fire that was me. That was just one of the many things I loved about her. Even now it still hurts to know I'll never see her again. Maybe I should just go and lay down.