Beating : A story about love...?

Update 8(Oct 21 12:00 AM)

Hey everyone, I promised I would update as soon as I was done so here I am. I just finished cleaning myself up. After texting Jane yesterday morning telling her I would be there I arrived at her house at 8:30 this evening. When she opened the door I was greeted with her signature fruity aroma. She was wearing an elegant, form fitting dress and a intricate, jeweled necklace. For just a second I felt bad that I had not dressed up. She welcomed me in and led me to the table which was set with fine looking cutlery, plates and two dark red candles. Dinner was filet mignon accompanied by a delicious Mourvédre which I noticed was actually from Italy and had been made in the early 1900s. I wonder how much she had invested in this ritual. 
     After diner I began putting my plan in action. As she was rinsing the dishes I walked up behind her, grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her around and kissed her somewhat forcefully. She of course leaned into it and began to kiss me more passionately again and again. For a few moments I lost control of my mind again. I could feel myself forgetting my plans as she planted hot, rushed kisses on my lips and my neck. I can't describe how much I wanted to just keep going. But, I regained control of myself and pulled my knife out of my pocket. I waited to see the slight pause in her kisses and look of confusion in her eyes at hearing the faint click of the knife swinging opened before plunging it into her stomach. I paused then pulled it out and plunged it in again. Over and over my arm went back and forth like a sewing machine until finally she fell limp in my hands and I let her fall to the ground. Immediately I knelt down straddling her and attacking her chest with powerful downward thrusts. Blood spurted and bone cracked and finally she was dead.
     There are two things that are still bothering me. The first is just a little, probably pointless nagging in the back of my head. When I had finished killing her and she was coughing her last, bloody breath she didn't seem scared or even surprised. She simply stared straight at me...and smiled.  The second one makes me sick. It makes me get that gentle, discomfiting feeling of dread one might feel when going into battle. The beating is...STILL..HERE! I don't know what to do. I don't know why it is still happening. I am not sure I can live like this any longer.