You do it for him. You stand up after you've fallen down. Your voice gets louder with each shout. You claw at the ground. You rise.

You look around and wonder how you got to this point. You thought you were at the summit, but in reality; you were at the base. You thought you had fallen, that he had been the one to knock you down. That it was his fault. He was the one to do this; force you to fall.

But after time, you see that wasn't right either. It wasn't his fault. He was the one to elevate you. He was the one to take you to new heights. He helped you rise. You went past the summit. He made you soar.

And as you continue, further and further, higher and higher, you realise there is no other place you'd rather be, then alongside him, above that summit. It's all that you need. There's no way you'll ever allow yourself to fall from here; you want this, you need this. You can't survive if you fall from here.

So you stay there.

And then he falls. But you don't; you remain. You can't fall now, even if you tried. But still, you look for him. You seek for him, for he is all you need. You couldn't care less for the summit; you only care for him. You are here for him, you screamed for him, you cried for him, you rose for him, you do it for him.

But now he's gone and he can't ever come  back, so all you can do is remain. You continue further up, because you want him to be proud. A legacy, perhaps, you think. A will. Inspiration and motivation. You want to prove to him you can still do it. That you can still continue. That you are strong for him.

So you rise, further and further, higher and higher, until the summit is long gone and you are soaring through the skies. You soar, you scream, you crawl, you cry, you bleed, you give it your all, you do it for him. You live.