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Today is not forever. Happiness does not happen. Happiness must be uncovered, separated from the skin of pain. It must be claimed. Kept close. Protected.
And it doesn’t feel dangerous to dream that one day, Ella might be mine in every way. My wife. My family. My future.
“Sweetheart, I really need to know if this means yes or no—” “Yes,” I cry, slightly hysterical. “Yes. Yes to everything with you. Yes to forever with you. Yes.”
“Ella,” I say. “You’re going to be my wife.”
“You asked me to marry you,” she says softly. “Yes.” “Wow.”
“I love you, Ella,” I whisper. “I will love you for the rest of my life. My heart is yours. Please don’t ever give it back to me.”
Because how can we stand against tyranny if we ourselves are filled with hate? Or worse— Nothing?
