Day 38: Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

It must be among one of the most anticipated phrases to most of the people. That, and along with Merry Christmas, I love you and I’m coming home. It is a time to celebrate. You work so hard for a year. You overcome your obstacles. You graduated high school. You got a job you promoted. You got in a relationship. You got over your dumb boyfriend. The list goes on and on, the feat that you’ve achieved over the past year. You have survived another 365 days. Everyone has every reasons to celebrate.

Just not me.

Happy Birthday!

I think I stopped celebrating my birthday when I turned 10. That was the last birthday party I can remember. That was the last birthday party where I enjoyed, even though that joy stemmed from the fact I got a 10 in my math test. I told everyone that today is my birthday! I told everyone a week earlier that today is my birthday. I was excited about my birthday when I was young. I would usually think that I have a present for me at home, because everyone had them. I mean, every other kids bragged about theirs, and every year, I would hope that I can brag about mine.

I ended up with two presents in my first 16 years walking this Earth. And one of them was a bunch of science books.

Happy Birthday!

I think I started avoiding my birthday when I hit 15. I was in high school. I stopped celebrating birthday, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy every “Happy Birthday!” that was said. I did and I wanted to feel like at least, you know, I have some people who would remind me of how birthdays should be. I saw on social medias, twitter, facebook, Instagram, you name it, how people post pictures and cute paragraphs to each other. I saw how they decorated the person’s locker. I saw how they organized a surprised cake. I saw all of that. I was just hoping, that maybe, maybe someone would do that for me, that for a day, I can just feel like I’m the center of the world. That was selfish, but I wanted that for one day.

That was too much to expect, apparently.

Happy Birthday!

I just passed the 18 mark on meter of my life last Wednesday, if you are keeping track. I downplayed it. I didn’t want to expect anything. I tried my hardest to pretend that it is just another day. I went to class. I went to the gym. I did my homework. I watched TV show. I showed no excitement whatsoever.

Now, to clarify, I did have a birthday dinner. That was pretty awesome, and one I haven’t had in a while. I got some presents too, for that matter, and I can’t thank the people who helped with all of that. Thank you. Really.

But deep down, there’s something that’s missing. Deep down, I feel like it was all the same, when everything is said and done. The feeling of loneliness still surrounds me, like it did two years ago, or five years ago, or seven years ago. In the end, nothing changed. I’m still drunk, in a corner, and crying. I shouldn’t be. But I am.

Happy Birthday!

I don’t know why people automatically put the “Happy” in front of the “Birthday”. Why would one celebrate a day where one is closer to death? Why would they celebrate a day when their mom suffered excruciating pain? Why would they celebrate their life, that would eventually have to end? How do people even celebrate birthday? I don’t think “Happy” always goes with “Birthday”.

But maybe it’s just me.

Yeah, it’s just me.

Happy Birthday, Denny!

No,

Lonely Birthday, Denny!

                                                                                                                                       Always,

                                                                                                                                       Denny