//------------------------------//
// The Words I Couldn't Say 
// Story: Finding the Hay in a Stack of Needles 
// by Twilicorn 
//------------------------------//

"Dear, fetch me my needles please?"

"Oh sweetie, could you try this on for me?"

"Come on darling, it's time for bed!"

"Applejack, 'sugar cube', it's for me!"

"Come on! Just this once..."

"Pleeeeeease..."

"I need you to!"

"You don't have an option, darling."

"Don't argue with me! Now!"

"When I say something, I mean it now."

"Don't use that tone with me!"

"Please? Please?"

"I do not have the time for this."

"Get that lazy flank over here and do this for me!"

"Sweetie! I didn't mean to! Come on darling!"

"I didn't want to hurt you!"

"You're worthless, you know that? You won't even help me, when you're supposed to love me!"

"You're going to hurt me? No one will love you like I do!"

"You can't leave me. I'm all you have, dear."

"Slapped you? I did no such thing."

"I'm sorry honey! Please, Applejack, I need you!"


~*~


Everything she said, everything she did. It was a slap in my face, literally. I tried to talk to her, from the very beginning. I really did. But would she listen? No. And if I can't leave her physically, then I suppose leaving her in every other way possible is the best option. Before I do though, I'll tell you my story. From the very beginning.


~*~


We were in love. I'd even say we were madly in love. She was my diamond, my sparkling idol. When I asked her out for the first time, the way her whole body lit up, I'd say she was a crystal pony again. The date was amazing. We held hooves across the table, shared a meal, drank a little too much, and went back to her boutique for the night.

That was a mistake, I'll admit it. I was sober enough to have fought her, but I wasn't going to. I decided to be selfish, and it was a mistake.

When we woke up, she was shocked. Her mane was a mess. And when I leaned in to kiss her, she kicked me in the gut. I'm glad I'm as strong as I am, or that would've hurt. The mare's got quite the kick. She apologized, of course. Then we had one of those dramatic scenes where we confess our feelings, and it was like a movie. Perfect in every way. Then I made her breakfast, and we enjoyed it.

We did that for the next few days, for the rest of the week actually. Sometimes we just cuddled, sometimes we didn't. But the breakfasts were the best. Until the day she insisted she make the breakfast instead of me. The rest of the day, I ended up doing her favors, but I didn't really mind. We were in love, my judgement was askew. I was her servant, doing everything she asked before she could finish a sentence. We did that for another week.

Our friends were concerned until we confessed to them. Then they were happy for us. But I remember Dash pulling me to the side.

"AJ, you're as beat as a rock from Pinkie's old rock farm. What's she doing to you?"

"Ah'm jus' helpin' her with 'er work," I brushed her off, then ran ahead to catch up with her and carry her home. We were like newlyweds, but giddier. It was great.

Then we got to the third week. She was as stressed as a sheep giving birth, but I helped her out. Then I messed up. I really didn't mean to, not like that matters. I ended up tearing one of the dresses she was having me try on. Granted, she hadn't told me explicitly to try this one on, but she said to help her out, so I just assumed to try it on. I didn't know it was a special order from Fleur de Lis, with such a weird body frame.

"Sugarcube, can' y'all fix it with yer magic?"

"No! I can't! This was a special order!" she had squealed. Then she got angrier. "You broke it! I spent days working on this! You destroyed it!"

Then... she slapped me. It wasn't hard, at least to me. Probably because I was so shocked. The minute she did it, she looked so shocked, so apologetic. So I pushed the dress out of the way and kissed her, just like when we had kissed for the first time. It was beautiful kiss, like one two schoolponies share. There was no intent behind it. Then she led me upstairs, and we made up well. Then it happened again, two days later. She slapped me again.

I know she didn't mean to then, because she was apologetic. But this time, her apologies seemed faker, like she was going through the motions. She was still mad the next day, and I tried to make it up to her, but I couldn't. I brought her flowers and gems, rare gems from Canterlot. I brought her cider, I tried to help with her sewing. But I couldn't make it up to her.

After her orders were done, it was a little better. she was nice again, and we got along well again. I was making her breakfast again, we were cuddling by the fireplace, or taking Sweetie Belle to the park. Then, two weeks later, it got crazy.

I still don't know what set her off. I just know she stomped in there and began yelling at me, like I should know. I took it, like the big strong mare that I am.

"You think you can simply destroy everything and make it up by being cute? Do you realize how much you hurt me? I am tired of you!"

That time, she didn't look sorry after slapping me, or hitting me. Or kicking me, for that matter. I should've gotten out then, but I didn't. I let her keep it up, blaming it on how busy she was. I was pretty stupid, now that I think about it. My parents never hit each other, not that I know of anyways. I wish I knew what bugged her so much.

This time, it was the apple that broke my back. This whole relationship has become hers, and if anyone saw us, they'd assume I was her servant instead of her lover. If I could even call myself that.

She didn't just hurt me, she attacked me. I don't know why, or what led up to it, but she got pretty mad about something or another. I'm still sore. I was reading one of her books, and that's how I figured out what was going on here. She was abusing me, and I don't know why. I know that I can't do anything right, that it feels like I'm worthless. Maybe I am. My friends don't miss me, my family hasn't come by, and she doesn't even think I'm worth looking at any more.

It's over. Everything. I tried to leave, and she wouldn't let me. I remember that. It was right after she hit me.

"Rarity, can I—"

"You aren't leaving. You are mine, and I'm not letting you go anywhere again."

Why she wants me when I'm worthless, I don't know. But I'm not letting her have me. I'm done with everything.