It's funny you called out "guilt tripping" when that's precisely what you did...

The Hiker reaches the foot of the mountain
And pulls out his map,
Laden with a golden path in lemniscates  
Knowing where he is to go
For he had known this since he set foot out
His door.

Day by day he scales a piece of the mountain
Face, lacking not skill, but
Having patience, knowing the safe and
Prosperous journey is the
Patient one, the one whose tree of meaning
Is rooted in passion, the passion
To wait.

The Hiker fears not the delay of the summit
For the summit is already his,
Her hand his bride, for it is known in the
Hikers name who he is meant for:
The Summit, forever and for always.

Okay.  I promise this is the only time it'll happen.

I got an Instagram.  For those of you who have it, feel free to stop by my page.  All you'll see is some of my favorite pictures, some of which I am very proud of.

Same username as on here. "A Dash of Red".

I think I've grown quite fond of that name.

Pictures show us that, at least for some time, everything was perfect.