If You're in Your 20s, You Must Read This Life-Changing Story

The trek through love and life is hard, but once you read about a couple and 80 flights of stairs in this post from Goody Feed, you're going to be more inspired than ever.

John and Karen are happily married and moving into their first ever apartment together, albeit in a not-so-good location on the 80th floor. One morning, Karen said to John, "Hey, it's such a waste staying indoors in such a nice weather. How about we go hiking? We can continue unpacking when we come back." To seal the deal, she flashes her signature puppy dog eyes to John. Unable to resist, John agrees.

When they came back, they found that the whole building is experiencing a blackout! Confident of their vigor, they've decided to go all the way up 80 floors by stairs. When they reached the 20th floor, they are already tired from the weight of their backpacks! There is no way they could go up to 80th floor in this state. "How about we leave the backpacks here?" suggests John. "Then we don't need to carry this much weight. We can just come back for it when the electricity comes back on." Karen, who is already next to passing out, agrees immediately. And so, they left their backpacks tucked behind a trash can on the 20th floor, because it's always better to have extra security. Always. For the next 20 floors, they joke around, relieved that they left the weight behind. From the 40th floor onwards, they started to feel the burn both emotionally and physically from hiking earlier and climbing so many flights of stairs. They started throwing blames at each other. Why would you suggest hiking? It's so pointless! It's not my fault! You shouldn't have agreed!What kind of idiot climbs 80 flights of stairs?! When they reached the 60th floor, both felt hurt and tired from the arguing. So for the next 20 floors, they walked in silence, reserving whatever strength they have left. They looked at each other and realized that there is no point arguing now. They reached their home holding hands.

Ecstatic and eager to take a shower after the long walk, Karen asks John for the keys. Mortified, the husband says: "But . . . isn't the key with you?" Then it struck them both; the keys are left at the 20th floor in John's backpack.

Their 80 floor journey is like the journey that we go through ourselves: life. From the day we are born to when our 20s, we are constantly burdened by the expectations of teachers and our parents. We have our aspirations and dreams regardless of the weight. We all swore that we won't live a dull and passionless life like our parents. From our 20s onwards to our 30s, we are like horses being released to the wild. We go to nightclubs and movies and fancy dinners because we can. We buy cars and houses without actually considering the costs and the responsibility it meant. We live life recklessly and enjoy ourselves because YOLO (You only live once). When we reached the 40s, we are burdened with the car and houses installments. We started blaming others for the state that we are in. It's the society's fault for pressuring me into buying a car; it's the government's fault for the high cost of living. Every day is a rerun of the previous day. Life is getting boring and stressful, fast. By the time we reached 60, everything should be set in place now. We have a nice retirement fund, a group of children and grandchildren. But alas, you no longer have the energy to move around like you used to. All you can do is to quietly observe life around you. When we reach 80, there is nothing left to do but to wait to die. When we look back on the things you have done with your life, we often realize that the thing we care about the most, our passion and dreams are all left at our 20s.

The moral of the story is that no matter what floor you're at now, it's not too late to go back and claim your passion. It doesn't have to be the focus of your life, but it shouldn't be left out. So, go do something now. It sounds cliché but life's about the journey, not the destination. Live your life out with no regrets!

Oh, and it's always the husband's fault. Always.