Numbers

I made a point of reading everything he wrote; or, more precisely, everything he wrote that I could get my hands on; alas, being cursed with an evil memory, I had also remembered everything he wrote.  Right down to what he told me when I asked what brought about a particular piece of poetry or another.  I was proud to be his biggest fan; still am.

One particular piece, amongst the many, keeps hounding me, in the most hopeless of ways; he once said to her: "you never knew the art of numbers.  Had you known, then you'd have also known that any number becomes zero when you are taken away from it".

He left.  To a better place I'm told, and I hope to be;  he left me grieving for him for the rest of my days, and left her dead in the world of the living.

QED

You'll love me at once ..

How does the song go? as hopeless and as ridiculously fictitious as the story is I guess; of a form of love so pure, that it would actually bring back the dead, or the almost so; of the girl that has it all, and the boy that wants it all, and the whole cookie crumbles and everyone lives; well .. happily ever after.

Alas the never ending cycle that intersects reality with dreams, hope with utter disaster and a 'pick-the-pieces and go' kind of outlook with the grim surroundings of this thing enforced upon us called life.

And that, as they say, is that.  The only constant I've ever been able to see in it all, is this ever lasting, bitter sweet pain that I'd miss if it ever went away, and hope every day it'd end, and if it did end I'd go seeking it again add infinitum.

The way you did once upon a dream ..

QED (for now)