Ah climbing, you are the perfect demo of loss. You are all that has happened to me, you represent all my pain and joy.
I loved you, I really did. It is strange to look back and think of loving an activity. We say it all the time, “I love shopping”, “I love bushwalking”, but when we think about it is strange to say that you love an activity. You love the way it makes you feel, the friends you meet, the memories it gives you.
I loved and love climbing. It brought me far more happiness than any other activity in my life. I discovered you too late, but at least I discovered you.
But now you are gone, and you will not be coming back. I tried reasoning with you, convincing you to give me one more chance but the moment had passed, the spark had gone. I will never climb again, and this makes me very sad.
I watch videos of all those I worshiped. I still love the movement, it will just not come back for me. I see them move and my muscles remember how they used to do the same, my palms sweat wanting to emulate. But then I get up and hobble to the crutches that have moved from a convenience to a necessity, and I look at the pills that drag me from day to day and I remember that you are gone and I cry.
It is painful beyond belief to have have loved something so much and to see it go with no hope of return. It is a prelude of everything else. The only difference is that I am here to experience this, everything else will leave me when I leave myself.
When I die I will not die, the world will end. When I lost climbing they made me watch and feel the pain. And it hurts.
You teach so much, so well…
You are experiencing what I am coming to realise old people experience … the gradual letting go of the things that used to be, the “I’ll never do that again”. The only problem is that you are experiencing it out of your time and that’s not right! Thanks again for sharing