Look at me and tell me...

I sat down with a good friend today.
We had to talk.
Things had gone wrong.
I sat infront of her and looked her in the eye.
Directly into her eyes.
Her sad, heavy eyes.
Lined with black and dark from slumber.
It's time to be honest,
I said.
A curtian of hair fell into her face.
I swept it back with ease.
No more shells to hide in.
No more lies to hide behind.
It was raw.
It was real.
You're spinning out of control,
I told her.
And she merely looked at me.
Helpless and empty.
And then I told her what I had felt.
What I had felt for so very long.
I hate you,
I told her.
I hate you.
And she began to cry.
You're stupid,
I said.
You know you're wrong,
I told her.
You've been used,
you're not even worth it,
you deserve all this pain,
I hissed.
Her face fell into an angry frown.
I hate you,
I said,
once again.
I hate you.
I hate you,
I HATE YOU!
And then I went to hit her.
My fist hit only glass.
And I stared at my bloody hand,
and the broken shards of mirror on the ground.