how's this for a start?

I'm writing a short story for my boyfriend....This is the beginning.  I really wonder how it sounds to other people.

I gave up magic the day I caught Chloe cheating on me.
    It was her seventeenth birthday, and I'd come home from school to surprise her with a ring.  Framed by the rising sun, I levitated to her second-floor window, a pungent bouquet complete with twittering canary floating up alongside me.  The first rays of morning accompanied me through her filmy curtains, illuminating a scene that ran quite contrary to all of my impeccable planning: my cousin Harold coiled so tightly around my then-soon-to-be-fiancee that—even if I had forgiven her on the spot—I doubt I could have found a free corner of skin for a good morning kiss.  Like the afterglow of a painfully bright lamp, that image refused to fade fully from my cringing eyes for months.

to be continued. possibly.