Thirteen Squared

One day two days ago, three thoughts popped into my head. For four years I had been working hard so that for the next five or six I could work even harder. Why was that? I remembered back when I was seven, life was so simple. My hardest decision was which of my eight dolls I should play with that day. I thought, that day, that I wanted that back. Nine months ago, I wasn't even thinking these things? What had happened? Even to go back ten years, back to when I was eleven, would be better than where I was now. Twelve more days. That's all it would take and I'd be done and moving on, but on to what? What happens on day number thirteen?

Those were my thoughts: feeling lost in the present, a memory and desire for the past, and uncertainty for the future.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and counted to twelve. I used to count to eleven, just because most people count to ten, but soon even that started to seem unoriginal to me, so that was why I increased it even more. I need those extra seconds, just like when I was nine years old and needed eight extra seconds to finish the races after the other kids. Maybe I didn't want to go back. Sure, I had plenty of dolls and toys back when I was seven, but what was I doing, really? Now that I think of it, even when I was only six years old, I wanted to go back, back to before I was five or even four. Back to a simpler time. There were only three things I needed back then, and really three things I need now: to love, to be loved, and to know what love is. I already have two of them. And maybe it is worth the rest of my life to find the final one.