Recently, I had one of the worst dates of my life. It was a first date, and I the whole thing seemed to go badly. Either on my part or the part of the woman I was dating, the entire thing went fairly terrible. The night after the date, I felt one of the worst feelings of my life, a feeling that made life seem as though all hope had been sucked out of my life, and I had been left alone in a desert of hopelessness.
The next day my good friend called me and asked if I wanted to go climbing. I sadly said yes, and made my way over to his house, picked him up, and went up flagstaff. We had been climbing in the cool crisp air for about an hour, all the while talking about our experiences the night before when I began to make my way up one of the scariest climbs of my life. At one point in this climb I was left totally exposed pressed into a crack holding on, sure that at any second I would fall. I was terrified. My entire life had never prepared me for this moment, and I was nearly unable to handle it. I pushed myself up the crack, and made my way up the rest of the route, sweaty and scared. At the top I came across a man. He looked in his twenties, was reading a book, sitting on the rocks looking across Boulder alone. Yeah I know It sounds like bullshit, but at this moment, a feeling of hope grew within me. I could almost feel my soul mending itself. I got that feeling, lost for years that a young child may have after he is done crying. I felt the passion that made me love life. The feeling that originally made me ask this girl to go with me, and the feeling that now, as I write puts hope in me to go on living my normal life, and try to find love again. Although I lack words to describe it, I believe in this feeling.
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