In case you wanna read the old pastebin: https://pastebin.com/dXq7frHK
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Howdy. This here is a little diddy I wrote after "A Confession to Twilight" and from the same thread (https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/35022430/#q35026869) as well. I was in a biiiig mood. I've also edited this greentext to read a bit better. Hope you enjoy, frens. 
 
 
>“So, Anon, whatcha doin’ for hearts and hooves day?”
 
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>It is true Pinkie Pie had never been known for being tactful with her words, but even still, you always thought that she had at least a modicum of modesty somewhere in the never-ending circus of her mind. 
>However, under the dim lighting of the bar table, her face flushed red and her blood thick with cider, that all manner of decency, what little of it she ever had, had been wholly discarded. 
>She smiles at you with that dumb-drunk mare-grin, leaning her little smug face close to you in a way that would have most ponies tipping over their bar stool. 
>But Pinkie Pie is not like other ponies. 
>She is Pinkie Pie. 
>And also, as it seems to be the case, a little tipsy. 
>You shrug, and look back down at the bar table.
“I’m not doin’ anything this year,” you tell her. 
>She shoots you with a funny looking play-pout.
>“What? Really? That’s crazy, Nonny! Even for you!”
“Meh.”
>With a drunk giggle, she hops her bar stool to sit closer to yours, and then leans rests her chin on your shoulder. 
>You let her get away with it; she’d fall on her face otherwise.
>“Issat why you’re in here instead of doin’ something fun and cool and crazy and super-duper fantastic and stuff?”
>You nod. 
“Yeah. Kinda. What about you? You waiting on a date or somethin’?”
>She snickers. 
>“Pssssh! Nopony wants /me/ as their special somepony, Anon. You know that, silly!”
>You turn your head around to face her on your shoulder.
“You...don’t have a special somepony?”
>She shakes her head with a closed-mouth smile. 
>“Nope! Never ever! Not since I was a liiiiiitle teeny tiny filly!”
>You look around the bar, spot all the ponies here, ponies who look attractive enough, others who aren’t.
>The idea that none of them would want to spend a day with Pinkie Pie, the friendliest pony in Ponyville, the pony who lives to make others smile…
>She’s friends with literally all of Ponyville, remembered everyone’s birthday, planned all of their parties!
>To think that not a single individual, not one lonely stallion or mare has ever considered or attempted to court her is just...confusing.
“You’re kidding. C’mon, you’ve /got/ to be kidding. Not one pony, not one anything has ever asked you?”
>You scoff. 
“Why?”
>“Oooh, I dunno,” she says cheekily, and lifts her head up off your shoulder head, sitting in her barstool again.  “Why haven’t you?”
“Because you’re a great friend but you’re not my type, but that--”
>“See?” she says, and giggles as if she had no issues whatsoever. “It’s easy when you think about it like that, except that’s just how everypony else feels about me too!”
>You put your drink back down on its coaster.
“No, that’s ridiculous! Look, everypony loves you, Pinkie. I mean, God, you’re so kind, you’re so funny! Don’t you think it’s just a little bit strange then that not a single pony then wouldn’t want to, y’know...find you cool or something?”
>Pinkie leans her elbow against the bar table, trying not to snicker as she jokingly bats her lashes. 
>“Hee hee! Tell me more, mister handsome.” 
“No, really! I’m serious! I mean, you got a lot going for you, right? You’re a total sweetheart. There’s gotta be someone who thinks you’re a catch.”
>“Aw, it sounds like you do,” she says, and points her hoof at you.
>Then, she pokes your nose. 
>“Boop! Gotcha!”
>You roll your eyes and wait for her laughter to mellow.
“Like, I mean, I think you’re cute,” you admit, “But...you know. I like someone else.”
>You clear your throat.
“Or...I did.”
>Pinkie sits up in her seat.
>She pouts.
>But this time, she isn’t pretending.
>Maybe she does have a modicum of decency after all.
>“I’m sorry, Nonny,” she says, and slumps against your arm. “You know, she still feels really really bad about rejecting you! I was gonna throw you a super-cool mega-terrific party to cheer you up, but Mr. and Mrs. Cake said that wouldn’t be a good idea. But she does feel bad about it! Really!”
>You look back down at the bar table, the corners of your mouth pressing into a frown. 
“Yeah, I know she does. I...yeah.” 
>Maybe it’s the dim light of the bar, or maybe this pussy-ass cider has finally gotten to you, but for some reason…
>...You grin.
“Heh, I’m actually not that used to rejection, you know.”
>Pinkie looks up at you from your arm.
>“Uh huh?”
“Yeah. Like, I guess it’s always been one thing to flirt with someone and just not go anywhere, ya know? I’ve always thought that was understandable. It’s testing the water. Trying to see how deep it goes. You have to be selective with who you wanna be with. You know, before it can be something more. Love and lust— they’re like water and ice. One’s fluid, the other solid and hard to move with. And then there’s everything between.”
>You look back down at Pinkie. 
“And with her? I was drowning, Pinkie. And then, I froze. Now, I’m stuck. Because I’m actually in love. And I just wanna melt again.” 
>You take a sip from your cider. 
>There is never enough alcohol in it. 
>But perhaps the mere gesture of reaching for a bottle for a drink soothes you itself. 
>Once it washes down your tongue, the bottle mouth parts from your lips, and a steadiness holds you.
“It’s almost like I’d never felt love before,” you continue. “I thought I had, but...it was just puppy-love. Nothing more, nothing less. But when I got here and Princess Celestia appointed you guys to take me in, to introduce me to life in Equestria, to teach me the Magic of Friendship? I was introduced to love, too. Through...well, you know who.”
>You shake your head.
>It’s almost amusing how naïve you were back then.
“I really related to her. We had so much in common. But I kept getting worse. It really hit me with what was happening when I spent the entire night up just thinking about her, feeling so uncomfortable with myself for obsessing over my closest friend like...like some kinda psychopath! I’d just be thinking of what I’d want to do for fun, and then, without even meaning to, there she’d be, dancing in whatever image came in my head. I’d see her smiling her sacred smile, her snout crinkled in that cute way it does… I never talked to someone who talked back to me as she did. Like she saw me in a way nobody else could. And I saw her too. I still see who she is. I know I do. And...a-and I know she knows it! But she...A-and I...Oh, God, I...”
>Your hands begin trembling.
>Stifled sobs burst out of your chest.
>The tears finally fall.
“Oh, God, Pinkie! Why do I have to be me? Why do I have to wake up and look at the mirror to see my eyes, my body, my face? I hate it all! I hate seeing what I’ve become, what I shouldn’t have been! Why can’t I become someone I want? That /she/ wants?? It’s like no matter how hard I try, how hard I care, how much I hurt, I just can’t ever be enough— for me or for her! I just...I just want someone to love me for me, even if I hate myself. And maybe then...maybe then I can finally love myself. And I can finally be happy. Happy and no longer alone. God, why can’t I be happy? And why didn’t she—”
>A hoof places itself upon your shoulder. 
>You turn your head to see Pinkie Pie.
>She stares at you with the softest smile you've ever seen.
>And her eyes drip with tears.
>“Nonny,” she says, “why can’t you see me that way you silly-filly? A-all I ever want is to make you happy…”
 
Fin.
 
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And that's that! Short, sweet, simple, but poignant. I'm glad the Anons on the thread reacted strongly to it. I felt strongly writing it. Thank you for reading my friend, and may love find you too someday.