I can count to ten in Japanese. I can count to one thousand in German. I can count to twenty in French… then it gets a little fuzzy. I think to thirty in Spanish. In English though… In English I can count until my voice evaporates under the cracks and yawns of the Universe coming to an end. I could count in English, number by number, past the end of the Universe, PLUS the 1,060 foreign numbers I know! With all this impressive counting I can do… I find it impossible to count how many times you make me laugh. I’ve tried counting how many smiles we’ve plastered on each other’s faces- on anybody’s face! It’s nauseating to consider the number it would take to describe all the things you do right. With all of this counting, I’m pretty pooped. Have you heard of those monks in the Himalayas that count to find God? I think I’ll let them count for me while I rest. They’ll probably count how many times I’ve thought of you since we met. In fact, I’m sure they’ll count how many times you’ve though of me! What else could they possibly count? Oh! They’ll be counting the times my heart says I Love You (and that’s a lot). They’ll count all the keys of the piano that I play for YOU. If they dare even try, they could count the ways you are beautiful, but I really don’t think they have enough time! As we both sleep, those nice bald monks will be counting for every star in the galaxy, for every galaxy in the Universe for every Universe in time. And unfortunately, once the last solar cluster is accounted for, the reasons why I want you will still need counting. So those poor guys up in the mountains will never see an end to their toils. Which is why during the day, I give them a break.
I don’t believe in infinity anymore, it’s just not a big enough number to capture you.