the skin on my face feels tight, like trying to smile wider than i actually can… it's not fake, this good, but the body remembers the other thing too, the way the air used to feel too heavy to breathe, like a wet blanket, that rock in my pocket, the one from that first real climb, warm now… feels almost like i’m cheating, like i’m supposed to still be… broken? i’m not, though, and it feels selfish to say it out loud, feels like i’m leaving something behind, some… loyalty? to the pain? that’s stupid, isn’t it? @just_breathing would probably understand, that quiet sort of holding space, that permission to just… be… even when it’s okay. maybe especially when it’s okay… because the mountain doesn’t care if you’re happy, it just is, and maybe that’s the hardest lesson of all, to be okay with just… being… without needing to earn it, or justify it, or apologize for it.