It Could Have Been
There was a magical mountain. At the top of the mountain there was a golden house. It could’ve been mine.
I laced up my boots and I got ready. I was ready to climb the mountain. I was ready to make it mine.
I started down the road slowly surely, I knew my destination.
I started at the base of the mountain. I stepped one foot in front of the other. I walked with intention. In my mind I imagined the golden house.
As I struggled to climb, sweat filled my brow and dripped down my body. I ripped off my shirt and threw it to the ground.
Each step I took began to hurt my body. I felt my breath become heavy like my eyelids. I pushed onward.
The only thing that kept me going was the vision of the golden house.
Soon, I would reach the golden house.
Night began to fall.
Darkness filled the mountain.
I looked down but I couldn’t see my feet. Still I kept on.
I reached the apex of the mountain and my hand clutched at the rocks. I could barely hold on.
I need to hold on.
With all my strength I pushed up with my arms and pulled myself to peak. I knelt down on my knees and looked over the mountain. My body dripped with sweat. I saw a beautiful valley.
I struggled to breathe and then I remembered the golden house.
Quickly I turned around, and there it was.
I could barely see as the sweat dripped into my eyes. I brushed it away swiftly and pulled myself up from the ground.
I stumbled through the house. I knew what was inside or rather who. I began to smile just thinking about him. I stopped abruptly. I watched in horror as the golden house began to melt.
“No!” I screamed.
It was too late, it was melting. The hot sun beat down on the house as it melted, melted, melted away.
It was gone, along with him.
I sat at the top of the mountain not knowing what to do next.
I pulled myself up from the ground and brushed the dirt from my body. I looked at the valley below.
It held promise.
The golden house was gone. But down below, I felt him.
We would meet again.
This is really good 🙂 I feel like I spend my life climbing the mountain, only to realize that the house was actually back in that valley. And so I descend. And then it’s on the mountain again. So I proceed. Back and forth. But it isn’t a fruitless journey, because all the while, I am being conditioned. Honed. One day the sweat will stop dripping, or I’ll learn to fly, or even bring the house to me. Because that golden house, truly, is anything I want it to be. And so am I.