More than the Sum

One

He was good at being one. He knew the intricacies of being one, especially when being one really meant being one against another. He was one against his family when he was small, knew the pain of being one against a foe with friends who help. He was one against a world that looked to him for answers and miracles that were beyond him. He was the one that remained, survived…outlasted.

He was worse at being one part of something bigger. Being one within took a lot more than being one with out; it took a choice. One took practice.

Two

He was often part of two, but the rules always changed. Two really was one plus one, and when you were two, a lot depended on the other person. Two could be fun, comforting, exciting, awkward… or just bad. Two could be all those things as once.

Sometimes, it was nice to be two with a friend, or almost stranger; then, two was simple. Two with someone who made you laugh was good. Sometimes, when it was just you and one other, then it was scary and two could be too intense. Being two with her, though…perfection. Two was unpredictable.

Three

He hated the number three. It was just so uneven, unfair. He would rather have been any other number, but he was cursed always as three.

Because, and this is the part that stung, as much as he hated being three, he couldn't have let either of them go, not for anything. He loved them both, needed them both and didn't even begrudge them the special happiness they had with each other, even though it was that connection that made being three so lonely.

So he hated it…but he could never change it. Three was a curse and a gift.

Four

She never knew how to act when they were four. She was tied to each, and bound willingly enough. She knew the rules any other time, but when they were four, she found herself caught. She couldn't be just little sister or friend or girlfriend, but she didn't know if she was supposed to be more or less.

Maybe they were never meant to be four. Maybe she was just one, hanging around their three. And yet, she could never leave. She just sat awkwardly with them, dividing, multiplying herself, desperately seeking balance. Four was just as bad as three.

Five

He was proud of five, he really was. He was so incredibly grateful to be part of the five most distinguished people in his house. Five made him a leader, because being part of five let him know that there would always be four at his back, even when the rest of the house thought he was worthless.

There was confidence to be found in the number five, but most of all, there was relief. No more bullies, school or paternal, no one could touch him because he wasn't alone. Five was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Six

She loved the number six. Before she was part of six, she was barely anything at all, just a singular obscure person, floating on the peripheries of life. Six meant having friends, six meant being real for the first time. She was blessed with six.

And sure, she knew that within those six, there were twos and threes and all sorts of pairs, but she was just glad to be one of the six. One of them. She loved them all and depended on them more than she had on anyone since the death of her mother. Six was... vital.