Gorgous As Could Be

Oh he was gorgous as could be. Seeing my silhouette in his eyes, feeling the breeze graze my white gown with life, and the kiss. The kiss every woman dreams about, wishing they had never woken. The kiss that elopes two and makes one love shatterproof.

This was our beginning, our bond, our everlasting companionship. We spent the rest of our days laughing. We spent the rest of our weeks running off and adventuring. We spent the rest of our months moving and making a place of our own. We spent the rest of our years starting a family. And, at last, we had our last breaths beside one another knowing this is the only life we would ever want to live.

You see, this is what I would have told my children. This is what I would have bragged about with my friends. This is the life I would have chosen over any other. But, I never had kids of my own. I never settled in and called one place home. I never explored and seen the world outside the one I grew up in. I never even laughed.

I lay here, coins over my eyes. Back aching from the stren wood I rest on. Lungs empty with no air to take in. And six feet of dirt to keep me in place.

He was gorgous as could be, but he was also more dangerous than ever. I made my mistake. I put myself into this grave. I married the man that put two bullets in my head. I never made it through my own honeymoon.