"The One Who Took the Mountain"

They say the sea path was kinder—soft winds,

steady sun, no stones to stumble on.

But I took the mountain.

Not because I liked the climb,

but because the wind whispered, “You’ll remember this.”

I’ve fallen.

Skinned my knees on truth.

Carried regrets like rusted daggers tucked in silk.

But the view—the view from this side?

It shows me everything the sea would’ve hidden.

There’s another version of me down there.

She sings to the waves and sleeps through quiet nights.

She never broke. She never burned.

But she never rose, either.

If I ever meet her—in a mirror, in a dream,

in the hush between heartbeats—I’ll nod.

I’ll thank her for taking the easier path

so I could take the real one.

And I’ll keep climbing.