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“I want to tell you about my childhood.”
“Oh?” The pink-haired mare snuggled him close in their bed, all nice and cozy.
“Yeah. You’ve been so open about your life and I want to share mine with you, too. Not ‘cause I think I have to or anything, I just think it’s the right time and want you to know. Y’know? Because I love you.”
Cheese was rarely this serious and he almost never talked about his past. Pinkie knew this was important.
“I’m listening.”
Cheese was quiet for quite some time before he took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and began.
“Well, first I want to say that this isn’t a happy story. I didn’t have... a good childhood. I don’t even know if you could call it a ‘childhood’, I never felt like a child. All I ever really felt like was... was a burden.
I wasn’t raised by my mom and dad. In fact, I hardly know anything about my parents. Besides the fact that they’re probably dead. That’s what my aunt and uncle told me, they were the ones who raised me.
We lived in a cramped little one-story apartment. It was old and leaky and I’m sure I got some kind of mold poisoning while I was there. I think my room was meant to be some kind of storage closet, but they squeezed a little mattress in there along with all their other junk and that’s where I slept.
I spent most of my time in that room, actually. I really only came out to eat and use the bathroom, which I tried to keep to a minimum cause they were always yelling and screaming about something and it was never good when I was a part of it.
I think they only sent me to school so they wouldn’t have to deal with me for a few hours. Or feed me. They kinda stopped feeding me once I started school, always said they forgot.”
Cheese stopped for a second, like he was trying to suppress some horrible memories (which he was). But the reassuring squeeze Pinkie gave to his hoof helped to steady him. He took a long, shaky breath and moved on.
“Did you know I made my own first pair of glasses? I didn’t even know I needed them until I started school. I kept doing bad on tests ‘cause I could never see what was on the board. Everypony just thought I was dumb, but I didn’t say anything. Finally, I overheard some of the kids in my class who were allowed to wear those clear sunglasses inside talking about how they couldn’t see without their ‘glasses’. It took many, many tries, but I eventually built some shoddy, makeshift spectacles out of whatever glass I could find and some old wire hangers, which my aunt noticed were missing and was not too pleased about. Luckily, she never found out that I used her old curling iron to melt all the pieces together.”
He actually smiled a bit as he recalled some of his earliest memories of being creative. He had always loved to tinker, whether it was to make personalized toys or cider bottle glasses. Though, his smile quickly faded as he remembered the context of the situation. The necessity of the glasses was due to the neglect and disdain that his aunt and uncle had shown him his whole life. Pinkie noticed his expression sour and held him just a little bit tighter.
“I don’t even think they noticed when I left. I don’t think anypony did.” He drew out a desolate sigh. “It was a few months after school had ended. They were still forgetting to feed me and it was hard to find scraps to eat in the city that didn’t make you wanna barf up last week’s lunch. One day I just... left. Packed up what little things I considered mine and left. There was never a search party to find me, no panicked calls to the police. I bet they were relieved. They didn’t care where I was as long as they got their closet space back. Didn’t have to leave leftovers outside the door anymore like they were trying to catch a rat.
I never went back to that place, Pinkie. I never felt the need to. They’re probably dead now, too. Maybe not. Either way, I don’t really care.”
There were tears forming, but whether they came from sadness or anger was unclear. He shut his eyes, letting the wave of emotion wash over him. Deep, grounding breaths as neither of them said a word. Beside him, Pinkie stifled a sob. She must’ve known how hard it was for him to tell this story. He kept his past mysterious for a reason, but this was for Pinkie. And Pinkie was different.
“Do you remember when I told you that nopony knew my name because I was so shy? That... that wasn’t exactly true. I was never given a name. They didn’t think to call me anything other than “the kid” or “that colt” and in school I just wrote my uncle’s last name on my papers so they’d know who’s it was. It was never really brought up beyond that.
When I left, it was mostly in search of food and anywhere else to sleep that wasn’t that moldy old mattress. The first real food, the first real good food, that I ever had in my life was at your party, Pinkie.
A cheese sandwich.”
Pinkie softly gasped. Her wide, tearful eyes glittered with surprise in the faint moonlight. Cheese Sandwich smiled fondly.
“It was warm and buttery and I had never tasted anything so delicious. And it was the first thing I ate that was entirely mine, and only meant for me. No picked over corn cobs with all the kernels chewed off, no kids bullying me into giving them my pudding cup, nothing. Just me and the first thing to ever bring me pure joy in this world, a cheese sandwich.
“I got my cutie mark that day along with an entirely new identity. I wanted nothing to do with my old life, so I decided to become the exact opposite of what I once was. From that day forth, I was a happy, smiling, traveling party pony without a single care in the world! Just like you…
“And now, I’m here. With you. Looking back, I never would have believed any of this was possible. But it was. And I did it.
I can still barely believe it.
“Anyway, that’s it. I just thought you should know.”
Both ponies were in tears by the time Cheese had finished, Pinkie more so than her lover.
“Thank you for telling me,” she sniffed, “that does explain some things.”
“Like why I cried so hard when Mr. Cake called me ‘son’?”
Pinkie gave a small giggle, “Yeah, that. But some other things, too.” Things Cheese probably thought she didn’t notice, she neglected to add. “I appreciate that you shared that with me, I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
“Yeah, I don’t really like to think about it... but it does make me happy to know that I’ll never, ever have to live through it again. And that my life turned out so much better than perfect.” He punctuated the sentiment with a kiss, short and grateful.
“You deserve every bit of it, Cheesie.” She returned his kiss, her’s full of caring and love, and they both fell asleep a little closer to each other than before.