Love's Own Way

The moonlight peeked from the gaps among the treetops. Though I had seen this same moon a thousand times, tonight it felt different as I lay in my backyard, completely still, watching him smile down on me. It seemed as if he was reminding me of the day when he overlooked my engagement. It was a beautiful night, just like tonight, when I went down on my knees in front of the woman I loved the most. I remember the little silver streams down her cheek, glistening in the moonlight as she nodded a “yes”, a hurricane of emotions whirling within her.
On our wedding night, several people had come and congratulated us and blessed us with everlasting togetherness. I made it a point to make those blessings come true at all costs, after all, it was already there in the vows. I showered her with rich gifts in the next few weeks. Oh, the joy I felt when she smiled and hugged me tightly after that!
After a few months of living in the city, the confined walls of our small apartment seemed to suffocate me. The wild chattering of people, the constant noise of machines, the routine of life, everything seemed to be intoxicating me. My wife worked as a lecturer in a college. She seemed to love her work too much, and I would mostly return home, after my day, to find it empty. I didn’t like it this much and finally asked her about moving into the countryside, where we could live peacefully, away from all this hum-drum. Maybe it was the grip on her arm or the loving look in my eyes that made me successful in persuading her to go along with my plan.
She had to shift from being a lecturer at a college, to a teacher at a local school, but it didn’t change anything much right? I mean she still taught kids. When we married, she had vowed to stay with me forever by my side. It was a small sacrifice for the love that we shared. We were a family after all. Plus, I had also quit my job and started working at the store.
Days passed by peacefully until one fateful night. That night there was no moon, it was just empty black darkness. I remember we were driving off to someplace.
“Did you pay the electricity bill for this month?”, she suddenly asked.
“No”, I replied uncomfortably.
“And the water bill?”
“Not that either.”
“Why? You know this is your part of the payment. I can’t cover your half of the month every time.”
“The store doesn’t pay well.”
“The store will pay well if you start going there regularly.”
I was a bit offended by this. “You know the owner reminds me of my abusive parents. He keeps shouting at me for no apparent reason and always makes me do extra work.”
It's true. I grew up with a pair of abusive parents and someplace that trauma still remains within me even after so many years. This is why I can’t stand people who shout at me. 
She took in one deep breath and said, "You are not a kid anymore, so please grow up and do something worthwhile. I cannot be the only one who supports the family."
Before I could realise, I heard a loud bang against our window. I looked to my right. The sight was just horrific. My right hand held her head against the car window. In a fit of anger, I had slammed her head. There was no blood, fortunately, but I felt immense guilt.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. I don't know what took over me."
She replied nothing. She just stared blankly at her feet. I tried to pull her close and comfort her but she refused any sort of physical contact with me. To be honest this was not completely my fault. Why did she have to say those things? I knew that I was currently incapable of assisting the family financially but that doesn't mean that I liked being reminded about it every now and then.
After that incident things were never the same between us. The peace of the countryside didn't help anymore. I don't know why but she no longer seemed to be listening to anything I suggested. People wouldn't believe it if I said she refused to wear the wardrobe I selected for her. She just behaved like a spoilt brat who needed to be disciplined, and discipline did I do her well. 'Spare the stick and spoil the child', is a common saying and I believed in it. I had to hit her again, on such a trivial matter of wearing an outfit. She screamed and cried on the floor as I rained down blows upon her. I cried too, the pain that came with every blow struck me as well. It was all tears, screaming, and whacking. I loved her a lot and she had to realise that whatever I was doing was for her own good. I want no man to ever raise as much as an eyebrow at her.
It's not that I only beat her. The next day I bought whatever was the best gift I could with my money and gifted it to her. But now she didn't smile like before.
"Why are you not smiling?"
She remained silent every time. Cramped up like a scared prey, but I was not a predator, I loved her.
"You do realise that it is because of your adamant attitude that I have to take these measures. If only you listened to me...."
I then started dictating her every single movement, just like a good parent does to her kid. But kids these days never listen to the good advice of their parents. They revolt. And her revolt took the shape of a knife that was now stuck in my belly.
I now lie in a ditch in our backyard, my clothes soaked with blood and the knife still there. My love was now throwing down gravel over my dead body. A burial. To be buried by one's own lover, was a different euphoria. The scenery didn't change much from when I had first met her. There was the moon and the silver stream glistening down her cheek like pearls against her dark silhouette that stood over me. My only regret will be that the big zero in the sky would be a permanent monument of my failure to stay by her side forever. Life is like a round circular path, what goes around, comes around. That's what some empty-headed people would say if they ever heard about my life from her biased narration of it. But I know that whatever I did, I did because I love her.