#020315

That was the argument I would always use for my internal debates. That part of me never won, but I never bothered to think of the reason why I always lost.

Then it just clicked.

The last time I rode a bike was when I was 8. I have never tried to ride it again not because I forgot how, I was riding it one day when I hit something or it hit me. . . I can't even recall what it was, but I got injured pretty bad, it left more than a physical scar. After that, I was too afraid to try it again.

That was us.

Do you remember how it happened? I don't.

All I recall was it was more destructive than it was constructive. Resentment turned our tongues into sledgehammers while our careless pride and anger-powered minds ran and smashed our glass hearts, until glass turned to pieces and pieces to dust.

We fell out of love and onto reality, inevitably, like rain on concrete.

Every time I tried, we tried, to make it work, something broke. And I have gotten to the point where I don't think I have any more parts left to break.

It had dragged on for too long and fear held our necks in place, cautiously preventing us from taking  a glance back.

I got used to a life that never required me to ride a bike. And you got used to a life that doesn't require me for it to keep going.