Touching the Void

And he would have been. And he would
have wanted to get down, and get water.

And he would have wanted to find me.
Now I did stop and pause, and I
shouted across into the crevice,

and I yelled and yelled, "Joe, Joe".
And I suppose again, with
the benefit of hindsight,

after I got off the rope, I
should have gone and looked,

into the crevice, to see where he was.
But to be quite honest, the thought
didn't occur to me at that time.

I was just convinced he was dead.
Absolutely convinced, by 10, totally
convinced, that I was on my own.

That no one was coming to get me.
I was brought up as a devout Catholic.
I had long since
stopped believing in God.

I always wondered, if things really hit
the fan, whether I would, under pressure,

turn around and say a few Hail
Mary's, and say "get me out of here".

It never once occurred to me.
It meant that I really don't believe.
And I really do think that when you die,
you die. That's it, there's no afterlife.

There's nothing.
And I was thinking, "Could
I climb out of here?"