1,3,5,7, … 23.. Again. 1,3,5,7, .. 23 was her favourite number, and when she counted, she always made sure to go only by the odd digits and stop right at 23, only to start all over again. She always walked, head down, skipped through the cobblestones on the pavement and counted when she was nervous. […]
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Paralysis By Analysis

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1,3,5,7, … 23..

Again.

1,3,5,7, ..

23 was her favourite number, and when she counted, she always made sure to go only by the odd digits and stop right at 23, only to start all over again.

She always walked, head down, skipped through the cobblestones on the pavement and counted when she was nervous.

Today, she was more than nervous, she was going on a date with “Le Petit Prince” and she was assessing the situation. She woke up at 6, got in her sweatpants, tied her hair, ran down the street, paced through the city, and she began to count.

1,3,5, .. She began having a hard time breathing, the hot thick air of the first summer days was still strange to her, not that she noticed, she was too busy analyzing what she was about to do later that day, it was a huge mistake, she thought to herself, going out with him, after it has been two years since they last were together, and they were past beyond reconcile. She wasn’t ready to go through all of it again, the wild ride, the turmoil, the bliss, the heartache, the bittersweet friendly ending of it all.

1,3, .. He gave her the best years of her life, they both grew, and their perception changed, they weren’t looking in the same direction anymore, she wasn’t the same person she once were, and he weren’t either. To say she despised him when they parted ways would be harsh, to say she was bitter or saddened wouldn’t give it justice, surprisingly they both felt relief, they ended it in the epitome of their love, though knowing it had some sort of nuisance to it. Would going back down the same road ruin the past memories? would she stand and look at him less adoringly? the simple thought of a renewed scenario was the first sing of trouble. She was over thinking, wanting to dissect and analyze her feelings, she so fondly craved to have control over the dustiest corners of her mind, and the long forgotten parts of her heart.

1, .. She stopped mid track, felt the ting of morning breeze on her face, filled her lungs with fresh air, and exhaled her annoyance, her jumbled ideas, she was paralyzed, crippled, dysfunctional, and her head was throbbing, she couldn’t make out a clear pattern in front of her .. So she did what she did best when she faced a problem of this kind. She turned on her heel to go back home, and she counted.

.., .. 23.

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