I was taking physics, and that’s where I saw her for the first time. She looked into the room. Peeked in. The teacher asked her whether he could help her, and then she stepped in, looking all around the room. Twilight had huge eyes. Gigantic. As she looked around the room, her eyes reminded me of the heavens.

She fixed her glance on me for a second or maybe two seconds, only it felt like much longer. Then she said,

“I am SO in the wrong room,” and turned around and walked out the door.

I didn’t think. Which had rarely - maybe never - happened before. I literally jumped to my feet and went after her. Twilight caused me to be late for the first time in my life. Then it was everyday. It was impossible to stop looking at her one I started. I would come to school early. I would find her, and I would look at her until the bell. I dreamed of her at night and did nothing but look at her at school.

We got married the Hearth’s Warming after high school graduation. December 21. Winter solstice. Our decision to marry made our parents insane. Mine told me I didn’t have to marry the first young woman I dated and her folks just thought I was - odd. We had our honeymoon in Canterlot. The honeymoon was beautiful beyond imagining.

We both went to college. I majored in Astronomy, Twilight majored in - umm.. She kept changing her mind. I can’t - I can’t remember what she settled on. Why can’t I remember that?

A month before our sixth anniversary, she and I gave Thanksgiving. Twilight was sitting on a big red pillow in our living room, her cheeks were red too because she’d drunk quite a bit of wine. As everyone left, her mom kissed each of her cheeks and Twilight threw back her head and through this completely radiant smile told her mother that she loved her. By ten or so, it was just us and Shining and Cadance. Twilight decided had to have this coffee drink she liked to make, with Triple Sec and whipped cream, only we had no whipped cream, and so Twilight said she’d run down to twenty-four hour market to get some. She said she’d be right back. She kissed me. She left.

Forty-five minutes after she had left, her sister asked - umm - how far away the market was anyway. Forty-five minutes. Which is impossible. My wife went to the grocery store to buy one item, I let her go, late at night, by herself. That is a long time, and in that time - I could have, I should have gone to the grocery store myself. After that, after Cadance noticed Twilight wasn’t coming home - I was delirious with worry. I knew that she was at least badly hurt because I knew Twilight. I knew her. I knew Twilight would not stay away and not call me. I knew she was hurt and I knew I should have gone to the grocery store.

The police wouldn’t look for her until she was missing for twenty-four hours. A detective asked me who she might have - split with. Who might your wife, the person you loved most in the world, the only woman you’ve EVER loved, have split with? I said,

“No, officer, she would not just have - split. My wife would not have done that.”

I told the detective about Twilight. I talked and talked about her. I told him, “Our carriage is still in the parking lot, doesn’t that tell you something!?” All it told him that whoever she left me for picked her up in the supermarket parking lot. Nothing registered. He was going to wait twenty-four hours. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted Twilight. I refused to sleep at first. I felt that, if she was hurt or scared, then I should stay awake because there was no other way to help her.

The police came a few days later, and I knew something was off by the way they shouted open up, it’s the police, and banged and banged on my door, like I had been on the FBI’s most wanted list for months. I didn’t want to go to the door because I was terrified they were going to tell me she was dead. I went down to the station.

Sixteen days after Thanksgiving, a man’s dog found Twilight’s saddlebag buried in his yard. He, um, searched and found just beyond his property - a pile a rocks. I told him I’d be there immediately. We found her. Twilight was there. Twilight…was dead. She was cut, her shoulders were bruised, and for god sake, she wasn’t wearing any clothes. But there was something else. She was smiling. She was smiling. Twilight, are you smiling? The police started trying to find out who killed her. They told me that more than one person was involved. They think two. Two different stallions raped my wife?

Sometimes, It’s a comfort, knowing how much Twilight loved me. Sometimes, I fall asleep knowing I was loved deeply. I can’t say I feel happy at that moment of drifting off. But I feel comforted. By knowing that if I never feel joy again, I was loved by Twilight. Passionately.

In the summer, in early July, the police arrested two stallions for rape, and when the police searched their houses, they found pictures. Pictures of Twilight. I suppose I should be grateful that these criminals, these rapists were so stupid. The police called me at work, and I went down there. She was alive in the pictures. She didn’t look hurt, but she wasn’t smiling. At first, I didn’t think I could bring myself to even look at them, but I did. I talked to each of them separately. Each one could have said no, but each agreed to speak to me. Which I didn’t understand at first, but now I think it was Twilight. Twilight was smiling.

Twilight was telling me ‘I am dying. I’m dying..... It’s what my life is now. I’m dying.’ The first one said no, he didn’t notice she was smiling. She said if one of them would stay there with her until she died, she would like that. She would be grateful. Twilight hated to be alone. He was spooked by that. He told me he didn’t know why, but he grabbed her purse and ran with it. He had killed before, but he didn’t want to be there when Twilight died. So the other one stayed with her. When he came into the visiting room, he sat down, rigid, and fixed his gaze on me. He didn’t speak. I asked him if he noticed she was smiling, and he said yes.

I asked him was she scared, and he said yes. But as she faded, she seemed less and less so. I asked if she spoke my name. He said no. He said he didn’t wanna piss me off, but she was “one weird mare.” Because, as she lay dying, she mumbled something about the stars. She died. She died. He said you’re crazy too, buddy. I banged the telephone on the Plexiglas separating me from him.

I said did you touch her?

“Did you touch her while she was dying? DID YOU TOUCH HER?” And there it was. He flinched.

He looked at me.

“She - uh she reached her hoof out to me, “he said.” She reached for me. Yeah. I let her touch me.”

I said-. I told him-. I was taking physics, and that’s where I saw her for the first time.