Her tears are like molten lava burning fresh against her reddened face. Her head is spinning hard, and she can't help but wonder why the hell she let herself drink all that whiskey.

"I didn't wanna-a tell you," she whimpers miserably, voice catching as her lungs struggle to feed themselves. "After everythin' you'd said that night. I was a-afraid you'd ch-change your mind. I can't stand t'even l-look at myself in the m-mirror."

I can't stand to look at you.