Damn You, 513

513.

The number seems innocuous enough, yet to me the weight bears down. My back feels nearly bowed from the effort of holding that figure high, trying to keep it untarnished, keep it from sinking below the water level, to drag me down with it, to begin drowning once more.

Today was a struggle. Yet somehow, against what seemed to be insurmountable odds, it continues to be protected. This burden lives on, to grow larger with each day that passes.

Damn that 513.

“Why can’t I just let you go?” At least that is what I asked myself only a few hours ago. Sure I would fall – the end might be painfully disastrous, but oh how sweet the effortless glide down. The relief of release.

I tell myself to wait. Tomorrow will be different, but isn’t it always? Moreover, tomorrow will feel different and that is what’s important. Instead of a heavy weight lifted high, making my every limb tremble with concerted effort, that number will gleam just a bit brighter. It’ll fashion itself into something magnificent, to be replaced with well-earned pride. Perhaps a necklace or medallion, holding no more more weight than the comforting reminder of a hard-sought accomplishment. As the new day passes, I’ll reach down and touch it as a reassurance. It’s still there, I’m still here, and I will continue to be.  By tomorrow the struggle of maintaining this 513 will shift, the burden will ease, to replaced by something new, yet still somehow the same.

I will smile and welcome 514.

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