my secret mathematical life

I can remember when I was very young and I knew nothing of mathematics how the essence of my life was always full and I glowed inside a deep and healthy pink.  Each day that account was full and it was filled with three words I heard many times a day.  They were I love you.

They had become much less, yet that was okay because I knew that when I did hear it I would be full and healthy again.  I was pink deep pink, I was an 8.5x11 sheet of even deep pink.

And one day, one exact day.  I didn't hear it.  I felt my soul fade to white.  I felt fear and sadness.  I felt emptiness.  I thought for the first time, life, then I thought life plus death equals emptiness. Nothing.  I thought about zero. What does zero mean?  I felt a fear of it. And I felt a weird attraction to it.  I hated it.  I was wounded.  I was lost.

The next day I heard it again.  And I realized after a time and thinking about it.  I was not completely full and not deep pink any longer.  Some of the 8.5x11 sheet was white.  Or dead.  I hated white then.  But then I realized white was only an absence.  I hated it then again or not or I thought.  No I pretended that it could be full again..But my mathematical sense told me I could not. Be full. Again.  I thought.  Do I love her?  Of course this was a much higher math than ever before.   I couldn't even understand the question.  It couldn't form as a thought.  Not a real thought.. It was too isolating to think. What could be her? Separate from me?

I felt a thin stream.  It coated me. It was very cold.  It was isolation.  I completely disliked it.  And I only heard the good thing again occasionally.  Very occasionally. Very rarely.  I missed it.  I couldn't figure out the formula for why?  Why equals something.  No it was too complex.  And I forgot all of mathematics.  It became a foreign language to me.  A secret code. It was a language that no one spoke. It had become extinct.  It had to be created.  Again.  Artificially. Invented.  Pretended. Not real. No more.  Much of the 8.5x11 sheet was white. Curled. Ugly. And a new word was invented.  It had to be.   Ugly.  But what could be?  Ugly?  It grew.  It became Need.  Was need ugly?  I thought so.

Was Ugly need isolation? A thin stream of Isolation?  Isolating.

Now i was much older.  It was time to understand the bleeps and blurps.  My father was much taller and separate from my mom.  I was separate from my mom.  they were doing bleeps and blurps. They said get Dick a beer and the other one said Get Dick a beer?  Their voices were the same.  I spoke. For the first time.  I said get dick his ear.  I wondered what it was. I wondered what dick was.  I saw dick smile.  He was my mom's little brother.

I was unhappy.  I stayed unhappy.  I didn't speak again for many years.  Except to my sister.  She was months older than I was.  I spoke mathematic.  Not well.  I didn't understand it.  Why it broke.