Spent

It was all spent. Dripping from him onto the floor. He fell to his knees as the weakness overcame him. There was nothing left to give; no greater depth he could plumb. What there was in him had been given.

He let himself slide from his knees to his back so he stared up at the ceiling. The only thing keeping his soul from the sky was the roof of this place. He was satisfied he could rest now.

It had been a difficult mountain they had climbed. It was a group effort; everyone giving everything they had. It wasn’t a competition to see who had given more, but one of his tenets was that no one would out work him. He also taken on the emotional responsibility of the group; turning himself into a sounding board for all the anger and fear – charging himself with turning those emotions into the positive energy they would need to finish the climb.

All of it fell from him now. It was a relief to have the world fall away. He felt his shoulders unclench. He felt light. It was good. His breath flowed slow and smooth. That was interesting. He hadn’t realized how difficult it had been to breathe in the last month.

The voices of the others – the noises of the room – faded. The ceiling beckoned. He wanted to touch the sky. A pair of eyes and then a face came into view, then another and another. The group was around him now, looking at him.

His just calmed heart began to hammer in his chest. With his eyes he begged them not to say the words he could see in their faces. His mouth wouldn’t form the words.

“We still need you.”

He didn’t know how to say ‘no.’

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