That moment when your foot is falling towards the next place you need to step – and you don’t know if that rock is steady but you have to step on it, have to keep moving – that is the moment I live for – whether I land unscathed or not.
The pleasant clomp of my hiking boots – it’s amazing what a pair of shoes can do to a person – they make me feel steady and confident – I know I won’t slip with them on – whether I’m climbing the hardest trail on the mountain or flirting with you.
Hours of picking out places to step and going up and up and up are so worth it. So worth it when I can see a small part of the world’s vastness from the top, when I can scream fuck as long and as loud as I want to, when I can sit in the sun’s glow and write, content to be alone with my words. A place where no one can judge me or challenge me, because I made it here perfectly fine by myself.
And to you, the peak I have not yet reached, the ladders that scared me, the rocks that have cut open my leg, I will master you someday. I will climb both of your jutting peaks. And when I do, well, the world had better watch out.
There are physical needs – food, shelter, clothing. There are the needs that fuel my soul – mastering the mountain.
I’ll master the mountain – perhaps I’ll kiss you on its heights someday – our lips tasting like the salt of sweat.
There are many things I want to do in life. The one I hope for the most is mastering my body, turning it into something greater than it was when I was born. I want to learn how to fight, do back flips, more than two pull-ups, parkour, how to do that cool thing where you knock the gun out of the person’s hand and end up pointing it at them, and so much more.
I don’t just want to go to the top of a mountain, I want to run up the damn thing.
Long story short, I need to go hiking. I thought I’d put it into writing.