Sometimes life feels like free-climbing a sheer cliff face.
Each step is uncertain, the small loose stones and fine dirt beneath my feet causing me to slide, to lose ground even as I fight to gain it.
The sun beats down on my neck, hot and relentless.
Sweat gathers, glistens, soaks the thin fabric clinging to my back.
My fingers, raw and aching, freeze at the joints from gripping too long.
Breath comes in ragged waves, each inhale harder than the last.

And there are moments—moments when the climb feels too much—
when I press my face to the hard, jagged stone, eyes closed,
too weary to go on, too far up to let go.

It’s in those moments that your presence has been like steady ground beneath me.
A friend’s support—quiet, sure, anchored.
Your strength becomes the rope that takes my full weight,
allowing my hands, my legs, my heart to rest,
even if just for a moment.

You never climbed for me.
You never pulled me upward or carried me to the peak.
But your steady companionship gave me the breath I needed,
the pause that revived my strength,
the reminder that the summit could still be reached.

Since knowing you, I have faced many mountains.
And at each peak, as I plant my flag in quiet triumph,
I know your friendship was the most important part of the climb.