I met him at a gas station he was funny kind.

we chatted over icee's and small cups of coffee outside the gas station. A graffiti wall to say where.each and every day

"Whats your job?" i ask him.

"I'm an artist " he says as he scratches the back of his neck

"I uh did all this art. Its the ol graffiti wall" he adds nervous

"A graffiti artist, cute"

"I i paint realism too" he trips on his words as he talks

"Damn it, am I losing you?"He asks

After a long pause I respond

"Losing me? Hun you never had me i don't wanna date, dating is horrible. I'm gonna marry in heaven nothing goes wrong there everything thing sucks here"

"Everything sucks? Yea, like getting rejected after falling for a girl who believes to much in shit that ain't real but id still wait til death for her cause im a complete dumbass "those words seemed to just slip out of his mouth

"Not til death" he says after a while

He grabs somthing from out his pocket

A pocket knife perhaps

"Whats that" I ask scooting away

"A pocket knife dumbass"

"Earlier didn't you say not til death"he smirks

"Yea, what don't you get about that?"

"Oh I understand stand it. Not til death some twisted shit there but I'm ready for it."he responds

He looks at his knife than at me. I look at his art wondering what it meant well that will be a fucking mystery forever because I feel this stinging in my side. A knife repeatedly going to my side.

"J Jonathan what the fuck"i stutter as I try to grab his knife. I fail.

I fall as i take my last breath

I see the knife go into his chest deeper and deeper as the seconds go by I see more holes in his body from that knife

"I'm sorry " I try to cough out

-He falls.

"Not til death. Not til death honey"

Not til Death