six years
Recently, somewhere on the Internet, I found that the number six denotes imperfection in the Hebrew world. Since it is falling one short of their perfect number seven. Maybe that's why a superlative of six to third degree denotes the number of the antichrist. But as I number the years of your departure on my six fingers, I don't need a reaffirmation from the Gematria system. Every passing year, the number gets perfectly imperfect, no matter which numerology system calls it perfect. In an ever-expanding universe, every object is continuously on course to move away little by little, and we are busy trying to make a dent on this universe. Like a tattoo mark on your skin, with time and cell degradation, the ink that once was will soon be random marks drawn by toddlers on the wall. Like continents drifting away from each other every year, one inch a year. We too are being separated by the reality we haven't understood yet, time! So I look back, every year, now what seems like a ...
