My Mountain
I chose the mountain over the beach because I loved you. You climb mountains for a living and I wanted to see what it was like and why you didn't mind taking kids up and down them peaks almost every day.
When we got down the bus, you hurt yourself with the huge backpak and I wanted to turn back, afraid at the massive peak right in front of me. You said, no, injured as I am we'll climb this...together. Heaving the massive weight of our tent and food over your shoulder, you adjusted the straps of my tiny backpack containing our clothes, and you held my hand as we walked towards the base camp.
The climb was wet, muddy, and damn difficult. Each step I made after the first 4 hours was out of my love for you. I know I cried when you pitched the tent and told me we had 8 to 10 more hours of climbing the next day. I know I seemed like such a borgeouis chick spraying the Evian all over my body since there was no shower or river nearby. The dinner was fantastic which you cooked over a small fire, and the dessert made me forget about the gruelling day. Even if I woke you in the middle of the night because it was too cold to sleep and I was crying for a chopper to take me down, you simply held me tight and made a fire.
You woke me up with a kiss that made me feel like a goddess of the forest and I helped you pack up our stuff with a smile not even a god could wipe off. When we reached the peak you held me in your arms with the clouds at our feet and the rest of the world below us. It was the first and last time I truly felt on top of the world. That night, with me in your arms, I didn't want the sun to rise because I wanted the feeling of being with you, to last forever.
You gave me the world when mine was crumbling. Thank you for giving me Banahaw.
When we got down the bus, you hurt yourself with the huge backpak and I wanted to turn back, afraid at the massive peak right in front of me. You said, no, injured as I am we'll climb this...together. Heaving the massive weight of our tent and food over your shoulder, you adjusted the straps of my tiny backpack containing our clothes, and you held my hand as we walked towards the base camp.
The climb was wet, muddy, and damn difficult. Each step I made after the first 4 hours was out of my love for you. I know I cried when you pitched the tent and told me we had 8 to 10 more hours of climbing the next day. I know I seemed like such a borgeouis chick spraying the Evian all over my body since there was no shower or river nearby. The dinner was fantastic which you cooked over a small fire, and the dessert made me forget about the gruelling day. Even if I woke you in the middle of the night because it was too cold to sleep and I was crying for a chopper to take me down, you simply held me tight and made a fire.
You woke me up with a kiss that made me feel like a goddess of the forest and I helped you pack up our stuff with a smile not even a god could wipe off. When we reached the peak you held me in your arms with the clouds at our feet and the rest of the world below us. It was the first and last time I truly felt on top of the world. That night, with me in your arms, I didn't want the sun to rise because I wanted the feeling of being with you, to last forever.
You gave me the world when mine was crumbling. Thank you for giving me Banahaw.
whispered by E-vil at 4:24 AM
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