163 : all i want is a better love

I learnt to ride a bike late. I was seven, I was scared of falling. 
I learnt to ride a bike when my stabilisers shattered on a rock, and I just had to keep going. I did, and within a month I was out on the track on a red and yellow mountain bike.

I learnt that I deserved better than you when I woke up at four am, three nights ago.
Because I have covered for you,
I have apologised for you,
I have lied by omission and outright for you,
For months.
For years.

When I fell off of my bike, I climbed shakily to my feet. I brushed my hands off, picked the stones out of my knees, and I tried again.

When my belief in you shattered, I drove home shakily at midnight. I had to pull over at half past. I almost ditched myself - my hands wouldn't stay still on the wheel. My heart was drowning out the screaming in my head. I couldn't breathe. 

When I first met you, I told my mother that I didn't think you were very nice. It was six years ago. I watched you watch a kid struggling in the water dispassionately in the second before I jumped in to help them. But for six years, you have been earnestly telling me what a nice person you are. You have whispered in my ear. You have piled one piece of guilt on top of another until the pressure on my chest is only matched by the pressure in my head. You have coveted everything that I own, everything that I stand to gain, the accent I speak with, the people I walk with, since the day I opened my door to you. 

I'm tired.

I've been up since four.

I'm tired.

Your temper tantrum kept me up.

I'm done.