A Confession to Twilight Sparkle (AiE)

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The prompt of OP's thread: A picture of Twilight Sparkle in her library, smiling, pouring a cup of tea with her magic

 

 

>"Hey, Anonymous."

>"You said you had something important to tell me?"

 

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>Be Anonymous

>Day ‘Who cares?’ in Equestria

>The dim glow of the flames, the crackling sounds of the fire, and the tick-tock-ticking of the old grandfather clock across the room aid to increase your timidness.

>The sounds and their repetition, they pulse in the silence with your racing heart when they should calm you.

>You feel the heft of your emotions, your fear, your anxiety all piled inside of your chest, how they make it easier to descend into your chair, easier to succumb to gravity’s pull.

>Your eyes remain locked on to the steam dancing up from the top of your teacup, but you can feel the weight of Twilight’s gaze as she looks at you expectantly.

>It takes great effort to lift your voice from out of your body, yet somehow, despite your nervousness, despite your trepidation, you manage to find the strength to speak— or perhaps the strength to speak finds you.

“Twilight,” you say to her, “I love you. I love you so, so much, I don’t even know how to describe it. But before you freak out, before your mind goes a million miles a minute, please listen to me. Just listen to what I have to say and you can do whatever you want. You can yell at me, you can laugh at me, you can talk about it and then suggest we pretend this never happened— I get it. But please, Twilight. I’m begging you. Just...I need to tell you this first.”

>You lean closer to her and stare pleadingly.

“Will you listen to me? Please?”

>The open-eyed smile she wore when you arrived is lost.

>Now, her brows are knit together, her lips pressed into a worried frown.

>Despite the apparent nervousness on her face, her eyes — so large and emotive! — are fixed to you with a stern focus, within them pools of understanding maturity and the wild wakes of fear, both in conflict and synchronization like the black and white of a Yin-Yang.

 

>With her hooves holding on to her teacup, she exhales a small shaky breath after taking a sip, then nods her head slowly, her stare unwavering.

>You have her attention.

>You have all of her attention.

>And so, you continue.

“One day, I woke up and found myself in the woods and I was stuck there for days, weeks, about over a month and a half. And I find all sorts of monsters, like crocodiles made of stone, wolves of wood, and an actual manticore with a mane an all, all of them and more being actual, real-life monsters, beasts from nightmares and fairy-tales and horror stories. And I was lost in the wild, forced to survive. I can't believe it. I just...I was there for so long, and I...The running...”

>You frown, the thoughts and memories of what you had to endure, of the hunger and thirst you had felt, of the cold which bruised your body and the bugs that ate your flesh. You can feel it all over again.

>“I know you know all of this, but...I never told you that I thought I was dead, thought I was in purgatory. I don’t know what sins I would have committed to land there, but clearly I did something wrong. And do you know what I finally fucking realized while I was starving, bleeding, freezing, crying for every day in the wild?”

>“You were alone,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

>She hasn’t moved an inch.

>The only change in her eyes is their wetness.

>You nod back at her.

“Yes. I was alone. And while my family would miss me back home, no one else would. Nobody except my immediate family showed up to my funeral. I just know. And I have to live knowing that.”

>“Anon…”

 

“And then, someone found me one night. I was apparently on the brink of death. Next thing I know, I’m waking up somewhere bright, and I...I see something with gold and white with beautiful wings and a barrage of warmth and colors, a bright light above my head in some blank white world that my eyes could not yet discern. And, in my barely conscious daze, I thought to myself that this was it. That whatever sins I had done, I had finally atoned for them. Whatever I was meant to learn, I must have learned it. And this thing that I was staring at? It was the deity who sent me here, a beautiful, loving, entity of light and love. And so, I tried to speak to it, to this strange form of lights and white and gold and wings and colors, tried to say something to it from the leathery horseshoe rasp that was my throat...I tried to say ‘thank you.’ But before I could, it — no, /she/ — shushed me. She shushed me so, so softly and put a hoof against my cheek. I could make out only her eyes and nothing else. And she said to me in the softest, sweetest voice I had ever heard, ‘It’s alright. You’re safe now. Rest and dream for a beautiful tomorrow.’ I cried. I wanted to scream and wail and thrash and hug her like a baby— but I couldn’t! I couldn’t even move! I was so broken! And this half-dead, half-loud broken wheeze kind of sound just...just erupted from inside of me, ratcheted out of my chest and mouth! And the tears...the tears fell for so long as I felt her, this blurred goddess, gently lean down and hug me in her legs, her wings, her ethereal mane of light! Oh, my God. It was finally over, Twilight. It was finally over...”

>You take your yet-to-be-used napkin off the table and begin to wipe away the tears on your face.

>You’ve gone too deep.

>And although Twilight’s wide, open eyes of sympathy and kindness and worry have not left you, she cries too, silently, barely moving at all.

 

>And for a moment, the room is still, all for the dim glow of the flickering flames, the crackling sounds of the fireplace, and the tick-tock-ticking of the old grandfather clock across the room.

>You use the stillness as an opportunity to sip your tea.

“In a way, I still think that I was meant to suffer. That I was meant to go through that hell. If I hadn’t...I would never, ever be the person I am today. Of course, later, I realized I was in a hospital and who I was looking at was Princess Celestia. I came to learn that I was in some place called Equestria. That magic was real. And as I got better at the hospital, Princess Celestia brought the seven of you in. I remember Spike riding atop your back, Pinkie’s eyes being a bit too generous in looking at how strange I looked compared to you all, Rarity wincing at the state I was in...and Princess Celestia introduced you guys to me. Said you were these great heroes and stuff. I remember you making that cute little face you do when you feel embarrassed by praise after she said that. It just contrasted so perfectly with the way Rainbow Dash puffed her chest out in smug embrace of such a title. The whole bunch of ya, just these charismatic ponies with a little dragon. And Celestia...she said you'd help me adjust when I’m out of this hospital. That I’d stay with you, you’d teach me the magic of friendship, and your friends would help me too. All until you guys could get me back home.”

>You take a breath.

>Try to sigh the tension out of your chest.

“And then you told me there was no way back. Told me that this.../is/ home.”

>Extending your hands across the table, you grab Twilight by the hoof.

“And...you looked at me that day, looked at me with those beautiful, keen, intelligent eyes, eyes so full of warmth and kindness and love, and said, ‘I know how sad you are. I know you’re probably the loneliest you’ve ever been. But I /will/ make you happy. Because I’m your friend.’”

 

>“And I always will be,” says Twilight.

>You nod, clutching her hooves just a little tighter.

“You’ve done so much for me. You let me live here until I could find a place of my own. You helped me find a job so I could survive, and most of all, you gave me friends. You showed me that there is more to life than chopping wood and carrying water. You showed me friendship is not just another obligation or distraction. Friendship is—”

>“Magic,” says Twilight. “Friendship is Magic.”

>She smiles, blinking away a few stray tears as her other hoof comes to join your hands.

“...Twilight, I love you. Every day, I get stuck thinking about you. Whenever we run into each other, I feel so comfortable but I feel so nervous. When I drift off to sleep every night, my mind wanders and I see us being happy together and then feel like a freak. I don’t know why this has happened to me. I...Oh, my God, you’re so smart, you’re so pretty, and even though you eat like an actual monster, you’re just so damn great. Twilight...I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I...I feel like I’m going insane. I’ve never, ever felt like this. What’s happening to me? What...why...I-I…”

>Your body shakes.

>The tears flow like rivers from your very heart.

>You don’t know how long it is you cry for, only that Twilight is there for all of it.

>That night, you learned that her lips were even softer than you could have imagined.

 

End.

 

 

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My own thoughts on this piece:

Melancholy is a rather odd thing, isn't it? Yet it bitterly accompanies love oh-so well. And the posters from the thread I posted this green agreed. I spoke of my struggle with "the politic of the pulsing heart" when it comes to my very, very real love for a cartoon horse. It resonated, so here it is.

 

I wrote this piece originally much longer. I cut out a lot before posting it on /mlp/, making Anon's story a bit more ambiguous, removing paragraphs of his story that give more context to why he feels the way he does toward Twilight. However, I felt that if I made it too specific, it would disconnect him from the reader. Perhaps I'll post the original draft sometime. Maybe. I would say more, but I feel that no one wants to read this anyway, so I'll just say thank you for reading. It means a lot to me, actually.