The air is stuffy, and the rain is coming down heavier than it was before. There's not a bit of sun in the sky as long as the clouds are hiding the light. Under this sky, I stomp away from the Boutique, driving up little splashes of muddy water with every step. I don't head towards home or anywhere specific: just away. Once I'm far enough away and can't see the Boutique anymore, I find a tree to sit under in wherever and sit down underneath it.

I scream my frustrations to the leaves and sky above me and plunge my face into my hands. I don't care if anyone hears. Few enough ponies would choose to be out in this weather, anyway.

I seethe quietly, not moving, not speaking.

Rarity. I don't know what to think of her anymore. Because today, she just about confirmed to me that she didn't care about my feelings for her, or she cared only as far as it was a piddly childhood crush. Even on the day we met, on the day I fell for her, she had already made up her mind about who I was and where this would go. Nowhere. I never had a chance.

What was she doing, then? Keeping me around because she thought I was cute or that my crush was cute? Or keeping me around because I was at her beck and call? Because I did favors for her whenever she asked? I was happy to do them because I thought it meant something. Was I actually just a little dragon servant? She always liked the high life . . .

I can't believe that. Not Rarity. She doesn't do things like that—or . . . I thought she didn't. After today, I don't know. I didn't want to believe anything she said today, either, but that's all true, too. There are so many new truths about her I don't want to believe. I need to think:

Who is she?

There's an ocean of anger and frustration and misery warring with a continent of friendship and attraction and love. I want to believe that Rarity is still that charming, incredible, and gorgeous pony she was. But all I've seen of her today is a Rarity who never thought anything of my love for her, a Rarity who wouldn't tell me that and let me hold on to false hope while knowing it was a false hope, and a Rarity who used that hope for her own desires.

She's done so much good: she's made friends in very high places, and she's founded three boutiques of fashion. She wants to make everything and everyone beautiful, and she's so selfless that the Tree of Harmony gave her her Element. She embodies the virtue of generosity; she is generosity.

But I'm having a very hard time finding what's so selfless about this.

Why? I always come back to that question. Why did she do it? Was it really so she could just keep winning favors off me? Every time she asked me to do something, I would drop everything and do it for her. She must have liked the "service." Like her own butler, except she's not singled out as the only pony in Ponyville with one. Just a lady and a guy with a crush. It's not the first time she's charmed a stallion to get what she wanted, either. She does it all the time.

I growl again. I'm not an errand boy. I'm not a kid who she can boss around because I'm a kid.

But that's not Rarity. She's not the kind of pony who would do something like that . . . isn't she?

Yesterday, it would have been so easy to say no and defend her and every one of her foibles, like I've done so many times before. But today, I'm not so sure. I've seen a side of her I didn't know she had, and she must have had it all along. How can I defend that? How can I reconcile the Rarity I met today with the one I knew from yesterday?

That Rarity is the one I thought I knew, the one I fell in love with. The same one who can inspire hundreds with just the clothes on her back, then inspire even more by giving them away. With all the years I've grown to like her and gotten to know her, I can't just cut her out of my heart that easily. I loved her. I still love her. She's beautiful, inside and out . . . at least that part of her is.

There's no going back, though; I can't just pretend none of this ever happened. She's different now. Am I just supposed to choose: Do I put the events of today behind me and try and forget that even as much as I love her, she'll never love me back? Or do I acknowledge what she's only ever thought of me as and let that eclipse every other good thing about her?

And it starts all over again, the cycle of hating her and loving her and trying to understand a character I thought I knew so well. And what that means for me.

Who is she? I just don't know.

"Spike!"

My ears perk up at the sound. I would recognize that voice anywhere. No, it's not the accented, bold, perfect voice of Rarity; it's softer, gentle, and unassuming. Fluttershy's voice. Rarity's girlfriend.

I don't bother lifting my head to look at her.

The galloping hooves get closer to me until they slide to a stop and the breeze from her body reaches mine. "I'm so glad you're okay!" she says, still trying to catch her breath. She tries to wrap her hooves around me in a hug, but I swipe them away with my claws. I don't need consolation, especially from her.

She squeaks and backs up maybe a step, but she doesn't go away. Instead, she says, "I'm so sorry for what Rarity said to you." And when I don't respond, she keeps going. "Could we maybe go back to the Boutique? I think Rarity needs to see you."

Rarity? What would she need to see me for? She's not interested in me, clearly, and I don't care to even look at her right now. Not until I figure out where we stand. And even if she is sorry for what she said, what does that actually mean? That she's sorry I'm offended? That she's sorry Rarity didn't soften the blow? I peek my eyes up to see Fluttershy's yellow coat and pleading eyes with my own angry and skeptical ones. I put them down again and turn away, not saying a word.

"Please? She really does need to see you, and . . . and I think you need to see her, too. You would both feel better."

"Not interested," I mumble. I just want her to leave me to my own misery. "Don't you have a girlfriend to go back to?" I spit.

She squeaks again, but she still doesn't go away. I just sit silently, head in my hands and looking at the damp ground, hoping she'll lose her patience and go back home.

She doesn't.

We sit in a stalemate, her waiting for me to open up, and me not giving her that opportunity.

Eventually, she says something. "Please, Spike, come back for just a little bit? Rarity, she's . . . she's hurt."

"She's hurt?" I retort.

"I know, I know, and she hurt you too, but she didn't mean it; I know she didn't."

She knows she didn't. I know I can't avoid Rarity forever after this, but I don't want to see her again so soon. Not after something like this. Maybe one day she can try explaining why she didn't mean it or making it up to me or whatever, but I don't want to hear it. Not right now. She broke my heart today in too many ways. "Go away," I mutter.

She doesn't.

I haven't heard her hoofsteps or wings flapping their way back to the Boutique. I can still hear her breathing and non-starts as she tries to think of something to say. She's still there, just waiting for me to give up.

"Go away!" I yell, looking up angrily. "I want to be alone!"

Her eyes widen for a second and she shrinks back, shielding herself with a wing. She starts to turn like she's going to retreat, but she stops halfway in her movement. Why can't she decide when I've told her so many times that I don't want her there?

"I don't want to talk to her right now!" I keep yelling. "She betrayed me, okay? She just led me on for so long for whatever reason. I never had a chance, and she never let me know. Then she just had bring you with her to rub it—it . . ." I trip on my words as I briefly envision Fluttershy and Rarity in the boutique, eyes locked on each other, sharing a tender moment and communicating together without saying a thing. That real love, that connection that I never had a chance to have.

I grunt and put my face back in my hands, trying to hide the tears that I know are coming back. But Fluttershy knows what's happening; she hits me in my moment of weakness and wraps her hooves around me in a hug. Great. Now she's never going away. I try to swipe her hooves away again, but she doesn't let go.

"Oh, Spike. That must hurt very much," she says.

"Go away," I say feebly.

I feel her shake her head. "Not as long as you need a friend to cry on."

"I don't need you," I protest.

"I'm your friend first, Spike, and that's how it always will be."

I grumble-whimper and don't say anything more. I just try and contain my crying as I'm comforted by my own adversary. Isn't she?

I hate her. She's the one who took away the one I wanted, and she's the one standing between me and my dreams. She lives my dreams while I have to watch. The joy in those dreams that could have been, she stole it away and gets to make it her own. She's the one who gets everything and wins the beautiful mare, and I'm left with nothing but a broken heart. I should be jealous, bitter, spiteful . . . all those things.

But . . . I just can't. She's Fluttershy; it's just so hard to get mad at her for anything. She's too nice. And in the end, has she actually done anything wrong?

I might hate what Rarity said today, and I might hate the fact that she's taken, but I can't hate who she took. It's hard to disassociate "Fluttershy" from "Rarity's girlfriend," but the only thing Fluttershy's done today is come after me to make sure I was alright after I stormed away. It's what she does—cares for others—even as her girlfriend stays at home, where the love is, and where "Rarity's girlfriend" should be. Like I'm still her friend, and I'm still important.

"If Rarity's so hurt, shouldn't you be back with her, then?" I mumble.

She separates from me, and I see the concerned and worried look on her face. "I've comforted her all I can, but I can't help her anymore. She needs you. She needs the friend in you."

But is she really? A friend? It's almost absurd that I'm questioning this now—Twilight would be not be happy—but I don't know if I can forgive a pony who built our relationship on a lie.

I growl and sigh at the same time. It's funny; love is the only thing I've wanted from Rarity for the longest time, but Fluttershy is reminding me—by being a friend to me right now, I guess—that I've always had her friendship. And regardless of what I was wishing for, what I had was still pretty great. Maybe even more than the love I never had, I want the Rarity from before whom I was so easily a friend with. The one I could laugh with, have breakfast with, partner up with. And who just so happened to be exceptionally beautiful.

"I want the old Rarity back," I muse aloud.

"The old Rarity?"

"The one I liked. The one who had a real friendship with me."

"Oh, Spike . . ." Fluttershy shakes her head and gives me another quick hug. "She's still here."

"Where?"

"Back at the Boutique. That is the old Rarity, and she is very sad that she might have just made it seem like she didn't care about one of her best friends. She wants to say that she's sorry for her mistake. She wants to win your friendship again."

I stay silent, thinking. Those are only Fluttershy's words, though. I think she's telling the truth—but are some mistakes just too big to forgive? I don't know, but if they exist, this might be one of them. Then again, I almost ate the whole town once, and everyone forgave me for that. She was the first one.

"I just want our family to be together again," she says. "I don't mean just me and Rarity, but all of us. And I think . . . I think you want that too."

I didn't like the Rarity I saw today, but if Fluttershy's right, the Rarity who's hurt and the one who wants to apologize seems more like the selfless Rarity I thought I knew. The one I was a friend with and the one I want, maybe even more than the one who only loves me in dreams. I want the old one. The real one.

I look up to her eyes and read the words in them. Please, they say.

Grunting, I get to my feet, sniffle once, and wipe my eyes of any remnant tears.

Her eyes brighten and she smiles. Her eyes say everything they need to say. Thank you. She turns around, but instead of leading me back, she crouches down on the ground and stretches her wings down and out, revealing an open spot above her wings at her upper back.

I pause. "I thought we were walking back," I say.

"I'll fly you," she replies.

I've never had anyone other than Twilight offer me that before, and that doesn't happen often. Gingerly, I walk up to her and clamber on her back, finding a good spot straddling my legs over her withers and hugging her neck, trying not to get her hair in my eyes. Once I get comfortable, she stands up and takes to the air, floating at a leisurely pace back to the Boutique.

I'm still not sure why she did it, but it is very comfortable riding somepony when going someplace, and even more comfortable when they're flying there. Riding Fluttershy is more comfortable still. Her coat is second only to Rarity's, and she flies smoother than Twilight does. It's a luxury that no pony can really experience. It's not even something Rarity can do with her girlfriend, even though I am right now. It's . . . nice. Peaceful, even.

I feel Fluttershy's throat vibrate at my claws when she speaks. "Thank you, Spike. Rarity will be happy that you're giving her this chance."

"Yeah," I say back, maybe a little less happy about it. I ask her the question bouncing around in my mind. "Why did she do that?"

"Do what?"

"Why did she take so long to say anything? If she didn't care about my crush and didn’t want it to be anything, then why did she let it go on for years? Why did she wait until she found . . . someone else?"

Fluttershy doesn't respond immediately. Eventually, she says, "I don't know, Spike. Rarity doesn't tell me everything. But I know it was an honest mistake and that she never meant to hurt you."

"But how can you know that?" I stress. "If Rarity didn't tell you why, how can you know she didn't mean it?" It's this question that's the reason I don't know what to think of her right now.

Fluttershy glances back to me with one eye before responding. "I don't know why, Spike," she repeats. "But I have faith in her. I have faith that Rarity is trustworthy and good at heart and always looking out for her friends. We've spent enough time with her to know that. I think all of us have."

Faith? Fluttershy wants me to have faith. Faith in Rarity's goodwill and good heart, even when she makes mistakes. Faith in the Rarity I loved before. I want to believe in that Rarity, too. It's just a lot harder to do that when the mistake—betrayal—happens to you. Is it wrong for me to be skeptical?

I know she's not perfect and I know she makes mistakes. But this isn't just any mistake. And even if she explains and it is just a simple mistake, what then? She's still with someone else, and she's still never been interested in me. Those two things can't change. She can't leave without hurting me. Rarity's really good at dressing up words to make them all prim and proper, but they can't hide the truth. And if it really wasn't a mistake, even at all, can I really stand to forgive her?

These thoughts occupy me as Fluttershy continues to fly in silence. As the Boutique draws closer, I second guess whether I really want to see her again. She clearly doesn't want me—never has wanted me—but I know I won't be able to shrug off my feelings so easily when I see her. It happens every time.