Numbers always intrigued you. I found number patterns and sequences more interesting. But you led me into the world of numbers with a different mindset. You slowly started to traipse along the subject of numerology. And I kept wondering why. One evening, over a call, we discussed our birthdays. Yours falls on the 29th and mine on the 8th. So your root number is 2, mine is 8. I never cared about these things. Does it matter? To you, it did. You teased, “2 and 8—it's not gonna work.” Boy, was I perturbed! Fortunately, it wasn't a video call. If only you'd see me—Miss Fury in all her glory—all your love for numerology would flee in no time. But I laughed it off with a milder reaction, “It's all a piece of phooey hogwash.”
You were obstinate. Oh, the numbers did a number on you! They ate at your head, possibly your gut and other parts too. You built a notion how stuff would go wrong in future. Can someone love two things with the same passion simultaneously? Perhaps. But with you, it couldn't be. You loved the idea of numerology so much that you let it assume control over our relationship. It was as if you wanted it to win. Or maybe, it's true—2 and 8 really don't go well together.
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