You climb a mountain and halfway you think it's hard, but you'll make it.
Near the peak you know this is hard, you struggle and suffer but you see the value of it, you learned.
You are at the peak and it's a glorious feeling for about one second. Because now you see that the mountain you climbed is just a hill behind which the real mountains begin.
The wind is fierce here, but in the real mountains, you see blizzards and forgotten paths of dead adventurers.
You can back down. Take the easy path.
You can back down twice, three times, four times in your life. But on the fifth time, you cannot back down. Because you know you'd be resigning forever to the life of cowardice.
Never attempting the mountain again, the defeat would become your habit, your form of life. You'd satisfy yourself with being what you hate. A loser.
I won't let happen to be a coward. I'd rather starve to death. See you in Hell.
I advise you the same. May the 2021 be the most difficult of the years so far, and may you be the strongest you've ever been.