Lover or Stalker? (1)

Why?

Dylan gets home around 6. He kisses the top of my head.
"What's for dinner?" He asks.
"We need to talk."
"Of course, sweetheart. What's wrong?"
I hold up the knife. He looks scared.
"Looks familiar, huh?" I say.
"I have... No idea... What you're talking about."
"Oh really? You have no memory of killing anyone with this?" I'm yelling now. I know I shouldn't confront a killer like this, but I'm too shaken up to think clearly.
"Let's just sit down." He says calmly.
We sit. A few seconds of silence.
"Did... Did you kill him?" I ask.
"Yes. But I did it for you."
"I never wanted you to!"
"I did it for us. I first saw you freshman year. At first glance, I was in love. But I saw you were so happy with Jake. I gave it some time, but you never broke up. So I had no choice. I wanted to be with you, so I killed what was in my way. I love you. That's why I did it."
"If you loved me, you wouldn't have hurt me like that. I was heartbroken when he died."
"I know. But look how great it turned out. Babe, just try and see it from my perspective. I'll give you time to think." He walks away.
What do I do? He's crazy, I know. But he's crazy for me. Do I stay with him? Or not?