(no subject)
thirty-four (of 365)
Five straight lines and five quick turns. That's all it takes to get from my bedroom to the door and finally, to the world outside. I know this because I've done it everyday for the past ninety-one days. I count everything, you see.
I lean back so I am lying on the wooden floor. I place my palms on the cold wood and for a moment I don't feel like a part of the world. I hear rain from the window and I try to count the drops, but they're too fast for me. The sound is comforting and yet terrifying; I both love and fear the fact that there are things in this world I can't quantify.
Three hundred and fifty-four. That's how many times you've said I love you. Two hundred and eighty-nine is the number of times I feel as if you've meant it. Sixty-three is the number of times I think about you and wish for your happiness. Five is the number of times I feel heartbroken everyday.
I don't know why I keep counting. I don't know why the numbers make me feel safe.
I close my eyes as I attempt to count the raindrops once more. They're still too fast for me.
Five straight lines and five quick turns. That's all it takes to get from my bedroom to the door and finally, to the world outside. I know this because I've done it everyday for the past ninety-one days. I count everything, you see.
I lean back so I am lying on the wooden floor. I place my palms on the cold wood and for a moment I don't feel like a part of the world. I hear rain from the window and I try to count the drops, but they're too fast for me. The sound is comforting and yet terrifying; I both love and fear the fact that there are things in this world I can't quantify.
Three hundred and fifty-four. That's how many times you've said I love you. Two hundred and eighty-nine is the number of times I feel as if you've meant it. Sixty-three is the number of times I think about you and wish for your happiness. Five is the number of times I feel heartbroken everyday.
I don't know why I keep counting. I don't know why the numbers make me feel safe.
I close my eyes as I attempt to count the raindrops once more. They're still too fast for me.