Less than a week ago he pledged his never ending love to me, and now he is dead for the love of another. A Capulet maiden, not yet fourteen. I refused his affections for I believed he did not truly love me; that all too soon his eye would turn to another. It seems I was right.

Did he really love her, or did he just think he did? I do not know the answer. He loved her enough to die for her. The question haunts me: would he have died for me?

Though I doubt his sincerity, I do not doubt hers. She is the one I pity, my almost rival. Romeo is–was–charming. He undoubtedly swept her off her feet, enough that the perfect daughter of the Capulets fell for the dashing son of the Montegues.

Yet, the city is better now that the endless feud between the two families has ceased. I do not know if it will last, but for the moment, peace can be found where none was before. Is is wrong of me to think that the city is better off now that they are no longer in it? That I am glad I refused Romeo?

Is it wrong that I am glad they are dead?