A weird story about my life, chapter two.
Numbers, colours and maybe even specific letters can mean so much for an individuals life.

Maybe specially numbers because we use them to recognise special events or things.
Some win lots of money based on them and some lose.

If you have a high number in bank account everybody know you are a wealthy.

For me the number 3 has been following me around like it was implanted in my body!
I was 3 when my parents split up.
My mother had 3 children in her first and then 3 in her second.

I had 3 people with the same first name who all participated in my life in profound ways. Lets call them "Mary". Mary nr. 1 is my sister, nr.2 was a friend that ruined a lot of things for me a long time ago, nr. 3 was a therapist i had a long talk with.


Then there is another name that has also repeated itself, lets call them "Vicky".

Vicky nr. 1 was a friend i met at a school in my early twenties, we lost contact but met again some years later and became good friends until she slept with my boyfriend.
8 Years pass by and then i met her for the THIRD time in the fountain house
(I also met another friend there who i had gone to school with for 9 years, from i was 7-16, not to be mixed up with "Ann" later in my story)

Vicky nr. 2 was a friend of my mother who was also my boss for some years, i dated the ex-husband of her friend for a while, i didn`t know that he was the ex, i met him outside of that working place/environment.

Then while i was working for Vicky my old friend started to work at the same place(not Mary but a woman who has a THREE letter name haha.)

So the three letter named woman, lets call her " Ann", i went to school with her for 9 years, from i was 7 until i was 16.
We also went to the scouts together and we both had elder sisters who were friends, actually they were 3 siblings too.

Then after school i left for another city and didn`t meet her for about 5 years.

I came home and had been promised by another friend a place to live in a house she owned.
She didn`t keep my room until i got back home but instead gave it to somebody else!?

So a year goes, Ann who has been living in the house moves out and is looking to share a flat with someone.
That someone happens to be me, and i shared a flat with her for one and a half year, until we had an argument. Then 6 years later she turns up at my working place.

Of course there are more profound details here about my life, while i was working with Vicky and Ann, i went for a walk with my sister Mary and we tried to save a dog in the pond from drowning. It drowned .

(My sister has always had a quest in her to find out what is wrong with our family.
Its her way of coming to terms with the divorce and seeming more important then what she really is or should have been.)




The past has its own way to come back when you least expect it to, there are over 600 000 habitants in my city, so what are the chances to meet someone again?