Not a quitter

Life is a series of hills. Sometimes mountains. I like to think of the valleys as a happy medium. Then you start to climb. If you end up rolling or falling back down, the fall sucks. And it hurts. But you get to the bottom and it's ok and you try again. If you make it to the top of a hill, it's amazing. But if you make it to the top of a mountain, it's even better because the climb was that much more treacherous.
I just fell. I think I was climbing up a mountain this time. A big one. One where the top is so high, it's in the clouds. I hadn't even reached the clouds when I fell last night. I had been slipping and sliding for a week or so. And last night I think I let go because I knew I was going to fall no matter what and falling now is better than falling later when it will be a longer, harder fall. You can call me a quitter. You can call me a coward. But I am glad. I'm already standing in a valley and ready to start climbing hills again. I'm going to start with a small hill. Something easy to get myself back into it. I guess you can't call me a quitter because I'm trying again. You can't call me a coward because I'm trying again. I'd actually prefer it if you didn't call me anything.