Six. Six years ago, my coffee cup in hand, a cafe that closed down, Java. Waiting for that first meeting. Nervously anticipating conversation, what you’d have to drink, and where it would go with us. I was young, afraid, and, in retrospect, didn’t think it was the meeting that would’ve changed my world. We had our coffee, the nice chill of February’s breeze announcing its presence. Unlike strangers, we talked about our futures, where we were each going and how we would get there. Baby steps into the world of adulthood.

I saw you six months later, a coincidence. We smiled politely at each other, and walked away, aware that we were entangled with others. 

Six. The day of that certain month. Six. Six years later. I am older, I have shorter hair, more wrinkles, and you have lost weight, you have less playful eyes, and yet we still feel as nervous and confused. “Do you remember six years ago, you never called back?” 

I was waiting for you to do it. I was young and foolish.

Six weeks later- you’re gone forever, and I look at my calendar, and there is six again.

They say that the number six has a divine meaning. The Ancient Greeks recognized four perfect numbers: 6 – 28 – 496 – 8,128. Throughout history perfect numbers have fascinated mathematicians and more perfect numbers have been discovered. 

 “Six is a number perfect in itself, not because God created all things in six days; rather, the convert is true God created all things in six days because the number is perfect.” Saint Augustine (The City of God) 


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