And just like that, you killed me with your spontaneity, your spark.
You killed me with impulsiveness, a personality trait I knew all too well and let take hold of me far too often.
It was comforting, in a way, that he asked my opinion. His girlfriend disagreed with him, but he asked. I felt a glow at having a desired opinion. It might just have been because we had been talking this afternoon, but I enjoyed it while I could.
My spontaneity would continue to kill me. Kill me dead.
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