I remember his words exactly, the promise he made to love me every ounce of forever, his shiny green eyes glistening with tears as he held the box open for me on one knee. Bleary-eyed and my voice cracking, I managed a quiet, "Yes," and he stood up, shocked at my answer. I repeated myself as he slid the ring onto my finger, both of us sobbing through smiles, and I was ready to marry this man. Of course I was, after planning my marriage mentally since I was a tiny young thing, because, well, I loved him, and I thought that he loved me. And only me.