The lowest branch was too high for me to reach, so I needed help. Luckily my boyfriend was with me. I used his knee to jump up and grab that branch. We had never climbed a tree together before. The higher and higher up I got, the more exhilarated I felt.
I couldn’t stop climbing. My boyfriend had stopped long ago. I could see him; I was watching him get smaller and smaller. Why should I have stopped climbing? I was finally conquering the world.
the tree was beginning to become a challenge. I had to constantly dodge the small branches. I didn’t care that I was getting scratched up, and I really didn’t care about how high I was getting. In fact, I didn’t even notice. I wasn’t the least bit worried.
It’s not that I didn’t think I could fall. I was fully aware of the danger, but I liked it more than anything else. If I did fall to the ground, I could have gotten seriously injured or even possibly died. And I would have died while finally living.
I was snapped out of my trance when my boyfriend called up to me: “Dang! How often do you climb trees?” I responded by saying that it was the first time I had ever actually climbed a tree. My response must have scared him because he then yelled, “Oh my god! Please come down!” His fear made me realize my selfishness. So I started to come back down but only for his sake.