welcome to the mountain

george eliot said that "to live is heaven" and i've taken that to heart.

i fell in love with someone and it consumed me.

i still love it.

everything should be better than it once was.

i tried to become the type of person my friends were. the people who lived for everyone else, who were happy when everyone else was happy, but who suffered because of it.

i had more friends, better friends. together the shined brighter than the girl i almost loved ever could, and through the roiling grey clouds i could always see the gentle rays of light.

even though i knew i didn't need the mountain anymore, and i knew it wasn't real, i heard the people that tried to call back to me.

she was my friend, i suppose. but summer brough revelations and revelations brought confrontations, and nothing ended the way i wanted it to. the way either of us wanted it to.

then came the thaw, when the sun broke through the clouds and i felt warmth for the first time in too long.

the empty place was good, for a while. i shouted. i cried. i laughed.

i wanted to scream and cry and laugh all at once. how could she not see what i felt? was it worth telling her? i still don't know.