> The Diaries Of Princess Platinum Sparkle
>  by FabulousDivaRarity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Entry One: Ash
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I guess the whole thing started when I met Ash.

I was in my twenties back then. It was the Grand Galloping Gala, and I had just come into the ballroom. I decided to get a drink. I went to the punch bowl when he bumped into me and some of the punch I was pouring got on my dress. I looked up at him. 

His hair was black and coiffed for the occasion, wearing a tuxedo. His coat was brilliant white, and his jaw was strong. He was muscular, but not intimidating. And his eyes… Oh I lost myself in those pools of blue joy. He smiled at me, teeth whiter than alabaster. He said, 

“I’m Asher. Asher Flame. Sorry about your dress.”

I blushed. “I’m Platinum Sparkle.” I said. “And don’t worry about the dress. I have others at home. It’s not a big deal.”

He smiled. “Would you… Would you care to dance?” He asked.

I nodded. “Sure.”

We danced, only once, but I remembered it. We waltzed. He was a very smooth dancer. I don’t recall what we talked about, only that I liked the sound of his voice. It was a rich, vibrant timbre. It made me feel safe. And then, like a shooting star, he was gone. He said he had to go and speak with the Princess. I lost him in the crowd after that.

I looked for him throughout the evening, when I wasn’t dancing or visiting the garden. But I never found him. I accepted that I might not see him again. And for a while, nothing happened. 

Life went on as it always had for me. I lived in Canterlot, writing stories, and visiting friends. But I always felt something was missing, though I couldn’t place what it was. And then, one day I was taking a day off to see the museum, and I saw him again. He was the curator. He recognized me. And I went over to say hello to him. We talked for a few minutes, catching up, but I didn’t expect him to ask me out. I hadn’t been on a date since I was sixteen. But he looked so excited, eyes gleaming like the shimmer of sunlight on the ocean water. I just had to say yes.

He took me to a fancy restaurant near the castle. Apparently the princesses had dined there on one occasion, making it a hotspot for those from Canterlot and visitors from elsewhere in Equestria. We ordered some vegetable soup for an appetizer, a plate of glazed carrots with a reduction, spinach, and prench bread with onion cream dip for an entree, and fondue for dessert. It wasn’t overtly romantic like in some ponies fantasies. There weren’t any candles or white table cloths or roses, but we had each other, and that seemed to be enough for the both of us. We took a walk through the park after that, sat on the bench and watched the butterflies and birds fly. We heard the bees buzz around colorful flowers as we talked under Celestia’s sun. We talked about our childhoods, our jobs, our favorite things to do. The usual things you would give away on a first date. We talked for several hours. We never really revealed anything big about ourselves, and to be honest I don’t remember what we discussed in detail, but that was okay. Because with him, I felt like I’d just met somepony I’d known for a long time.

He walked me home as the sun dipped below the horizon, and gave me a quick peck on the lips. I blushed, not really knowing what to say.

“See you around?” He asked.

“Will I?” Looking back, the reply was so stupid. So full of doubt. But he just smiled, like a true gentleman.

“I sure hope so.” He winked at me. Then he waved goodbye and he left. And I was never the same.

After that it was a sort of whirlwind romance between us. We had dates every weekend, and spent many weeknights together. But it wasn’t enough. He was like a drug. One taste and I was hooked. I wanted- no, I needed more of him. Before him it was like the world didn’t seem quite right. Like it was missing something crucial. I thought he was that piece, that missing link. It was only later on down the road that I found out that that was wrong. But back then, I was ready to believe. To believe in him, believe in love, and believe in fairytale endings. 

Our relationship escalated quickly, to the point that he ended up moving into my home. It wasn’t until then that I understood that his public face was drastically different from his private one.

I’ll never forget the first time he hurt me. We were having some small argument over what to have for dinner. He wanted carrot soup, and I was going to make a salad. Things got heated quickly, and in the heat of the moment he smacked me with his hoof, leaving a welt on my cheek. Oh, the way I looked at him. Like he had kicked all of the puppies in Equestria and hurt every foal. And for a second, his enraged expression stayed, and I wondered if it was there permanently. And then, in an instant he changed. He rushed to me, trying to cup my chin in his hooves, and I backed up enough to where I knocked into the stove. I was frightened of him, and rightfully so. He cupped my chin in his hooves, and told me that he was so sorry, that he hadn’t meant to hurt me. And for a long time, I stared at him, trying to make sense of this. I teetered for a while between forgiveness and revenge, but eventually I settled on the former. If he said he wouldn’t do it again, I should believe him. Love was about second chances after all. So I told him I forgave him and kissed him.

And in doing so, I sealed my fate.
> Entry Two: Angel Heart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In those first few months after he first slapped me, Ash seemed to make a genuine effort to change. He never laid a hoof on me without my permission, and he was a perfect gentleman most of the time. It seemed that that singular night was a fluke. A one-time instance of out of control anger. I felt that my forgiveness was justified, and rightly so. Everything was going my way.

Until it happened again.

That time it was over me going out with a friend for the evening, and him being fearful for my safety. At least, that’s what he said. Looking back on it now I can see that he was actually jealous I was spending time with somepony other than him. He apologized, and was lovey-dovey to me like before, and I wanted to believe him, so I did. I think that at the time I thought that if I just loved him better, showed him compassion, and extended my forgiveness, that he would do the same for me. But a stallion like that, he can’t be satisfied with ending abuse. No, he has to continue on, because that feeling of power that it gives him was oh so important to him. And the cycles between the abuse got shorter.

That wasn’t to say it was bad all of the time. Most of the time he was very attentive to me. He was smart, compassionate, loving. All the things a stallion should be. Unfortunately for me, that didn’t last forever. In between the bad times, though, there were good ones. Dates at the park, events at the castle, and just general enjoyment of each other’s company. 

We didn’t make love for the first time until a few weeks after that second incident. We had just had dinner, and there was music playing through the house. He gave me that look, the one with a mischievous gleam in his eye, and took me upstairs. When we made it to the bedroom, he kissed me so fiercely that I fell over onto the bed. I laid down, and so did he, and when he took me into his arms that night we just seemed to fit together, like puzzle pieces that were shaped exactly to one another. He kissed me, he touched me, he awakened me more than any pony ever had. And when he entered me with the pent up desires of months worth of longing, it was glorious. He made me feel so alive, and as my passion rose and climaxed with his, it seemed that this couldn’t be any better. That night was the first time he ever said that he loved me, and I believed him. 

After that we made love quite often. Enough so that I’m not exactly sure when the incident that caused this next event to happen, happened. I had gone to the doctor’s office for a check up, just to make sure everything was going as it should. The doctor took a urine sample from me, and ran some tests with his magic. He lit his horn and I watched it change color, first to green, then to blue. He stared at it for such a long time that I worried that something was wrong, that I had some sort of incurable disease or something of the like. But before I could vocalize this, he turned to me with a smile.

“Congratulations Miss Sparkle, you’re pregnant.” He said.

My jaw dropped, so much so that I thought it would hit the floor with a  loud and resounding thump. I scrambled to make sense of his words.

“I’m what?” Was all that would come out.

“Pregnant.” He repeated. “Around a month or so along.”

I laughed, not nervously, but in disbelief. “You’re joking, right? You’re joking.”

The way he looked at me after I said that made it very clear that he wasn’t, and I sat there, stunned as he went through the precautions I would have to take, the doctors I would have to see, the vitamins I would need to buy. He congratulated me one more time before he left.

I didn’t go home right after that. I probably should have, but I needed time to think. I ended up in the park, by a playground that several foals were playing on. I watched them idly as I was wrapped up in my own thoughts and feelings. 

I had always wanted to have a foal of my own. Maybe more than one. But I hadn’t counted on it happening right then. I felt that I barely had my life together. How in Equestria could I support somepony else? I feared for that foal, and I worried for myself. How on earth was I going to do this? And how would I tell Ash? And what would he do? But as I watched those foals play, and a few interact with their parents, a smile started to grow on my face. Sure, my fears were completely justified, but this was also one of my biggest dreams coming true, and I made a conscious decision to live every moment for all it was worth.

I went home that day and got dressed in a special outfit, and started making dinner for Ash when he got home from work.

"How was your day?" I asked him.

"Long and exhausting."

"Doesn't that make it like every other day?"

"It was that way even more so today than usual."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You already made it better by doing this."

"I'm glad I could help."

There was a beat of quiet. "Speaking of doing this, what exactly is this for?"

"Can't I make dinner for you without getting the third degree?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, can you?" I blushed, and it gave me away. He reached across the table to take my hoof. "What aren't you telling me, darling?"

I smiled. "Am I that obvious?"

"Not to most, but you are to me."

I smiled and looked away from his gaze. "I don't know how to say this..."

"Take your time." His encouragement made me slightly less nervous.

"I'm pregnant.”

I tried to decipher the emotions on his face. There was shock and fear, confusion and acceptance. There were a dozen other little emotions there, but they went by so fast that I couldn’t name them. For a moment I didn’t know what he’d do.

And then he got up and kissed me, and I knew he was okay with it.

That day, he swore to me to be a better man, and for a long time, he was. He went with me to doctor’s appointments. He made sure I ate right. He helped me put together a nursery in one room of the house. He was attentive, compassionate, and caring. But an abuser that vicious is like a ticking time bomb. It was just a matter of time before all of that pent up rage had to be released, and I was his favorite target.

I had been upstairs that day, reading a book. He had come into the bedroom. He looked at me hungrily, but I wasn’t in the mood. I felt ugly, fat, tired. Nothing a woman who wants to make love should feel.

“Come on, baby.” He purred. “Let’s have a little fun.”

“I just don’t feel like it right now. I’m sorry.” I said.

He frowned. “Come on. How long has it been? I just want a little fun.” He reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. I batted his hoof away with my own.

“No.” I said, and started to try and head downstairs to get some water.

I reached the top of the stairs and was about to go down when he loomed over me. “Nopony turns me down.” It was a guttural growl. I backed up the tiniest bit, and lost my balance. I reached out my hoof to him, but he batted it away, and I fell. I tumbled down the stairs, and landed in a heap at the bottom. I couldn’t see his face, but I heard an odd sort of choking noise that must have come from Ash. I assumed he’d realized his mistake and was coming to help me. I was only half right. He realized his mistake, but instead of helping me he bolted out the door. And that was the last time I’d seen him.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it as a sharp pain shot through my stomach, and a gushing feeling came out of me. I knew what it was. My water had broken. I was giving birth. I laid there on the floor for what seemed like forever, contractions ripping my body apart, Making me wish I had never been born. But eventually, the pain ended. I looked down between my legs to see a white coated foal. It was smaller, but I was only seven months along at the time. I looked to see what gender it was. It was a girl. I held that foal for a long time. I wept over her small frame, and I belatedly gave her a name: Angel Heart. She was so perfect, so precious, and it woke my maternal instincts. But I would not use them. Because she was dead. I crawled over to the counter to help myself up, still cradling my baby. And I realized that unfortunately, I could not hold her forever. So I went to the backyard and started digging. When the hole was dug, I made a box, a beautiful and ornate box, and put her inside. I buried her there, since this house was my family inheritance and wasn’t going to be out of my care anytime soon. I wanted her nearby, so I could talk with her. Grow with her. Be with her.

I bowed my head and spoke to the dirt plot. “Mommy loves you, Angel Heart. Always. And I will make you proud someday.”
> Entry Three: Reverse Eclipse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Those months after losing Angel Heart were undoubtedly the worst of my life. At first, of course there was denial. I went through the motions as if it were any other day. I craved that interaction, that attention and dependence. To care for another person so intimately is intoxicating. It really is the ultimate high. And it’s one you can’t replicate, no matter how you try.

Then, I got overwhelmed. I had this abundance of unconditional love and nowhere to give it. It’s something I struggle with even now. Once you experience that kind of love you can never really get rid of it. You can only channel it into other things. I tried to put into writing, and was somewhat successful with that. I also channeled it into my relationships, but somehow it wasn’t quite right. Things were askew now, and unable to be normal again.

The anger at what had happened was swift and surprisingly harsh. I couldn’t (and still can’t) blame her for what happened. I didn’t want to blame her. So I lashed out at Ash, because I didn’t want to accept that it was really over. I blamed him. I said it was his fault. And to a degree it was. But it was mine too, for provoking him. At least, that’s what I thought.

Throughout all of it, there was a depression underlying everything. It was always just beneath the surface. I dreaded times when I was alone with my thoughts the most because I was afraid of getting sucked in by my own grief. But if you avoid the depression, it will still come up to haunt you. I was working one day, and suddenly all the pain, sadness, anger, disappointment, and grief hit me like a speeding pegasus. I was so close to breaking down in tears, but I kept it together as long as I needed to.

The first and most difficult step of getting on the road to recovery was to accept that she was gone permanently. Different people handle it in different ways. For me, I didn’t talk to anyone about what was going on. It was my way of staying in denial. When I finally did talk about it, it was a sort of cathartic relief. It was a real weight off of my shoulders. 

The last (official) step I took was writing her a goodbye letter. I needed to have my own form of closure after this, so that I could move on with my life and not be trapped by my grief. I process my feelings by writing them out, but it can be different for everyone. Some people draw, or sing, or act, or even cook. You just have to find your own way. I told her that I will always be here for her if she needs me as a mom or just a friend. I told her that I needed to write that letter not just for her but for me too. I had to find my own way to move on, and that was it.

Every day was still a struggle. I’ve heard that time is a great healer, and I believe that that’s true. But I still have bad days, where I feel the ache of her absence and long for what might have been. There’s a saying that if you love your children, you let them free. I believe that saying is true. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t fun, but it’s important to know when to let go. Even though I wish so many things were different, and that I had gotten one day with her, I knew it was time to let her go. No one can fill her place in my heart, and I don’t want them to. She was my first child, and for that I’ll always love her, but I knew that if I really loved her, I would set her free, even if it hurt, because it was what was best for her, and for me.

And then one day, the endless night lifted. I had gone out to the library one day, looking for information for the book I have been writing and I stumbled across something I found interesting. In the newspaper I was reading, I came across an article on adult foals. It explained what they were, adult ponies who liked acting like infants. The article was on how they came to be the way that they were, and although there was no one clear-cut cause, I was hooked. I knew instantaneously that this could help me heal. This would help me and help other ponies too, but I wasn’t sure where to start.

I read in the article that some Adult Foals have a parent who helps them become who they are, and that was the role I wanted to fill. And then, the article mentioned a nursery. And that’s when I knew. That was what I was going to create. An adult foal nursery. I put the paper back and I rushed over to the furniture store, and bought some supplies. A crib, a changing table, a rocking chair, a toy box, some childproof gates, and a playpen. I would have it delivered within the next twenty four hours. Then, I went to a custom clothing shop, and ordered some onesies, sleepers, dresses, and dress up clothes, all in adult sizes. Lastly, I made a trip to the pharmacy. I bought several sizes of diapers, all in different patterns, pull ups, training pants, and several foalish accessories, like pacifiers, bottles, sippy cups, and toys.

I caught my purchases in my magic, and carried them back home. Then, I got started on the rearranging. The room next to the one I had designed as Angel Heart’s nursery had originally been a guest room. But one shrinking spell later the bed and other furniture was easily removed and stored someplace else. I would have put all of it in Angel Heart’s nursery, but that place… that place was hers, and hers alone. That was my place to be with her. I would have to do a lot of rearranging tomorrow, but for now, I put the supplies in the room. 

That night, my dreams were not haunted with regret. Instead, they were full of pride.

That morning, the furniture came. I assembled it all on my own. A little magic never went amiss in situations like these. Soon everything was assembled, it was all in the right places, and I used a bit of magic to enlarge everything to adult sizes. The furniture, the diapers, and the clothes. It came out perfectly. I decorated the nursery with pictures of animals, some cars, and set out stuffed animals and toys. Then, I put up a playpen and some childproof gates.

Satisfied, I observed my handiwork. It was perfect. I was ready for business.
> Entry Four: The Mix Up
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time she came, it was an accident. A mistake. 

She was supposed to be going next door. It was a barely opened shop, ran out of a home, that sold sports equipment. She told me later on that she was going there to get some supplies. She wanted some new weights to lift, some sweatbands, and some magically expanding and shrinking contraption that was designed to stimulate the muscles in wings that apparently wasn’t on the mainstream market yet. She couldn’t get those things in Ponyville, she said. They only sold them here in Canterlot, and she thought she could get it cheaper in a new place.

I live in a somewhat less traveled part of Canterlot. I know now from what she told me that she hadn’t been there before. So when I opened my door, I assumed rather stupidly, that she was my first customer since I put the word out. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“Hey there! Name’s Rainbow Dash.”

“Platinum Sparkle. Are you my first customer?”

“Guess so. Hey, any relation to Twilight Sparkle in Ponyville?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, no. Please, come in.” I said. She came inside, and I shut the door. “Can I get you anything to drink?” 

“No thanks, I’m good.” She said. I nodded.

“Please, come with me.” I said, and she followed.

I happened to look over to her when I opened the door. Her eyes went wide, and at first, for maybe a quarter of a second, I thought it was in wonder. But then, I realized it was in surprise.

“Um…” She looked stunned. Her mouth hung open.

I took that as my cue. “I take it you might have gotten the wrong place?”

She nodded, her mouth slack. In that one second, I swear I felt my heart go into my stomach. I put on a good face for her anyways.

“I… Sorry.” She said.

I smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it. It happens. Can I walk you out?”

She nodded, picking her jaw up from the floor. For a moment when I glanced at her, I saw her looking pensive, like there was something on her mind. We were about four feet from the front door when she asked.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“What was all that stuff?” I explained to her about the nursery, the things adult foals did. Then, a follow up question: “Why did you make this place?”

For a few seconds I contemplated brushing off the rest of the story, but I decided somepony might as well know the truth.

“I miscarried a foal. I tried for years to fix my body, to have another one, but it didn’t work. And for a long time, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was in the library one day, and I saw an article about Adult Foals. I thought maybe… Maybe I could help give somepony what my foal didn’t have. A fillyhood.”

She looked kind of nervous after that, then guilty, then pensive. “So, it was a girl, huh?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

She sighed. “I feel bad for the mistake. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up.”

I smiled. “It’s okay. It happens. It’s life.”

She started to go toward the door, but she seemed hesitant. She was reaching out to open the door when suddenly she stopped. She put her hoof back down to the ground. She seemed to be struggling with something.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

She turned to me. “I didn’t have much of a fillyhood myself. Spent most of my time racing, trying to be the best. I didn’t really do much else.” I nodded. I was sure she was going somewhere with this, and I didn’t want to interrupt. “At the time, I didn’t really think I missed anything. But maybe… Maybe I was wrong.” The words seemed to be pulled out of her, very slowly.

At that point I took a few steps to her. “I think a lot of ponies would relate to that. I think a lot of them never really grow up. They just learn how to behave publicly. But there’s nothing wrong with missing it. That’s why I made this place. So you don’t have to miss it. And for those who didn’t have a good foalhood, they could make better memories here.”

She looked surprised. At my words? My attempted wisdom? My plight? I didn’t know. But she nodded. She was quiet for a long time, and so was I. The silence was comfortable. It wasn’t forced or awkward. She needed time to think, and I understood that.

Finally, after a minute or two that seemed to stretch into hours, she spoke again. “Is this place private? Like, no pony knows what goes on here?”

“Only the ponies who will come here will know what happens. And I wouldn’t talk about other clients to anypony. I made a contract talking about that type of confidentiality for myself and clients to sign.”

She went quiet again, and put on what I would later on refer to as her thinking face. Then: “If I stayed here, would I have to wear… Y’know… Those?” 

I almost laughed at the look on her face. It was slightly horrified, curious, and fearful. I shook my head. “No. It’s my job to make you feel comfortable. Consent is very important to me, in this place especially. I would never force you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.”

She looked relieved. The silence blanketed the room again, but finally, it was broken.

“I think I’ll give this a try. On a few conditions.” She said, and I nodded. “No… diapers.” She spat out the word like venom. I nodded. I had expected that. “No frilly outfits either. Rainbow Dash doesn’t do girly. And no pictures. I don’t want anypony even accidentally knowing that I’ve been here. Deal?”

I smiled and nodded. “Deal. Now, come with me.” I said, and she nodded, and followed me.

It was the first real step onto the journey that changed my life.