“…and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet 43
My dearest Madeline,
It feels as though a lifetime has passed since I first fell in love with you. I believed you to be perfect. Perfect for me. Your spirit called to me on a visceral level. Every time I saw you, your smile would light up the room. Your eyes sparkled like the sun’s reflection on fresh, white snow. The glittering, natural diamond that Mother Nature carefully crafted. Its beauty unmatched. Until you. Your beauty outshone the brightest gem. But even gems become tarnished. Dirty. Like you. For so long I waited for you to realize we were meant to be together. For you to finally see me.
Instead, I discover you’re nothing but a whore. A filthy whore who has let not just one man, but two, defile her. I’ve seen you three together you know. Entering Satan’s den. You thought you could hide your perversion and sin behind closed doors, but you can’t hide from me. I see you, Madeline. I’ve always seen you. Even when you didn’t know I was watching. I thought you were different. The one. For over twenty years I’ve been waiting for you. But now, it’s come to this.
It’s time. Time to collect the heart that belongs to me. Has always belonged to me. And when your heart is in my possession, it will finally beat. For me. As it was meant to. Then we can be together. Forever.