"One day I will die." She said as violently blunt as digging somebody's heart out with a spoon, though she exhibited no fear or emotion for the words. The statement rested there to dangle the way her fingers did over the rest of her food... only to drop. She wanted a break, more water, more ice. Thus, she continued: "You will too, and I can't abide how that will make me feel, and if you care as much as you say you do about me, I'd like to spare you that."
She paused then, bone-white fingertips plucking up an unsuspecting ice cube and hauling it into her mouth. She crunched and spoke, and crunched. "I left because I'm not a good person. You think too highly of me. I only bring trouble where ever I go, to whoever I know. I belong alone."