The stories they’d tell us as children
Gave merit to those who climbed the mountain
And to those who championed their goals.
But the thing they always forgot to tell us,
Was how the heroes got down from the peak.
They taught us that the path was as important
As the destination.
And yet they always stopped half way.
They stopped when the hero defeated his enemy
And they stopped when the hero was happy.
They stopped at the destination
And never once showed us the winding road home.
Because that road is unnerving,
And more challenging than the first.
Getting to paradise is not what’s difficult,
What’s difficult is leaving it behind.
What’s difficult is knowing that it’s over.
For you may find this place again someday,
But it will never be the same.
It’ll never be us, here together
In the way we were before.
So say good-bye to those you’ll not see again,
And remind me to call you when I’m lonely.
For we can talk and look back to this place
Where we laughed… where we cried
And where we did many things in between.
Take this moment, and cherish the top
And let’s get started back.
Because this is where the stories end,
And now it’s up to us.