**The Climber and Their Shoes:

A Chronicle of a Painful but Terribly Loyal Relationship**

People say love hurts. But that’s only because they’ve never worn climbing shoes that are too small. Real passion, real suffering, real loyalty… that’s between a climber and their shoes.

A relationship where pain is not a problem.

**1. The first encounter:

“I’m going to hurt you, but you’ll love me anyway.”**

The climber walks into the shop. He sees a pair of climbing shoes. They look innocent, almost cute.

The shoes, internally:

“Come closer. Put me on. I want to watch your soul leave through your toes.”

The climber:

“They’re beautiful. I’ll take them.”

The shoes:

“Excellent choice, victim.”

**2. The first contact:

Pain as a declaration of love**

The climber puts the shoes on. His foot screams. His brain panics. His soul briefly leaves his body.

The shoes:

“There you go. Breathe. You’ll get used to it. Maybe.”

The climber:

“Why am I doing this?”

The shoes:

“To climb better. And because you’re weak.”

**3. The session:

A mix of performance and medieval torture**

With every hold, the shoes squeeze. With every step, they crush.

On every micro‑foothold, they whisper:

“See? You still had one toe alive. Not for long.”

The climber climbs, suffers, sweats, cries internally. But he keeps going. Because that’s what passion is.

**4. The break:

Temporary separation, absolute drama**

The climber takes the shoes off. His feet look like traumatized raisins. He can finally breathe.

The shoes, offended:

“Oh really? Leaving me already? Fine. I’ll stiffen up even more for the next route.”

The climber: “Please…”

The shoes: “No.”

**5. The return:

“Put me back on. You know you need me.”**

After five minutes, the climber gives in. He puts the shoes back on. The pain returns. Stronger. Sharper. More… intimate.

The shoes:

“There. That’s better. Now climb. And suffer.”

The climber:

“Why do I love you?”

The shoes:

“Because I make you better. And because you have no dignity.”