PROMISES FULFILLED
My wife is loved. I vividly remember the first time I saw her. Her eyes sparkled with laughter, her hair shone in the sun. I promised her flowers every birthday, kisses every day, wine in the sunset, if only she'd be mine. She said yes. Two years later, filled with flowers, kisses, and wine, and she said yes again. She looked lovely in white, her smile both shy and knowing. I promised to love and cherish her, until death do us part. My heart swelled as she looked only at me and said, "I do."
Love, cherishment, flowers, kisses, wine, and the years went by. Every anniversary, we played our wedding video. On the screen, our promises repeated. The lady in my arms and the lady on the screen would look at me and say again, "I do."
I said all the right things, I made all the right moves. Her eyes still sparkled with laughter, her hair still shone in the sun, but I found myself looking away. I grew used to her charms, and my heart stirred less over time. I gave her more of everything. Flowers, kisses, wine, time, giving my heart every chance to be filled. She was still mine, body, heart, and soul, but it mattered less and less.
It is time to watch the video again. She put on her white dress for me because I asked. I hold the lady in my arms and whisper the promise once more, to love and cherish her, until death do us part. She relaxes her head onto my chest and then stiffens suddenly, red blossoming on white around the knife. My wife is loved, but the love I have is dying. I had to kill her before I stopped loving her. I always keep my promises.