Birthday

I've never had much luck around my birthday. It always marks some big change, some big disappointment, something. I think last year was my best one in a while. I had my family, my friends, my soon to be born child still wriggling to find space in my belly. Amazing how in less than a year so much can change... So much of what you thought you had figured out, just gone.

I know that a lot of what has happened is meant for some reason, it just sucks still knowing nothing. I try to smile, I try to laugh, but it all leads back to memories of great times I had with you. I was in love with you, and you were my other half.

I'm starting to plan my future, but who knows what that holds. I keep slipping back to, "but what if he comes back...", "but what if this is all just a big misunderstanding". All the what if's in my head are really eating at me. They grab my stomach and keep it in eternal knots.

sigh I just want to hold out hope you might be here for our birthdays...

Once again, I'm gonna be alone on my birthday. I made plans with three separate groups of people! They all fell through. I mean, I'll see my mother in the morning before she goes to work, and I'm spending a few hours in the afternoon with my Dad. So I'm not totally alone. But I'm not going out to have idiotic fun after dark, either. Maybe next year...

i've never really been one to get all worked up about birthdays. it's never really occured to me that my birthday is all that special.

my first thought when i woke up today was, yay, good morning boyfriend. then it sorta crossed my mind that i am officially one year older today, and now a twenty-something. then i wondered where the time went and tried to wake up my boyfriend with kisses (if he wants to sleep, he's going to sleep, damn it).

my best friend celebrates her birthday for weeks. it's like the entire month of august is her birthday. i never really got that mentality. what's so special about getting older anyway? i think i'd rather forget about the persistant march of time.

For my birthday this year, an online friend who I've been flirting with for some time sent me racy pictures and a proposition for sex.

This isn't the first time I've gotten this kind of gift; but this time time is special. She knows my fantasies, and she's going to make them happen.

This is a lust that rivals my wanting of my loving, but eternally virginal girlfriend.

This is kinky, guilt-free sex uncomplicated by love.

Happy birthday to me.

I just remembered today that all throughout my childhood, as I blew out the candles on my birthday cake (or, as would often be the case, whatever else had birthday candles stuck on it for the occasion), my wish would simply be for happiness so I didn't have to kill myself. As I got older, I stopped the whole birthday cake, candles, and birthday wish ritual, so up until now, I had forgotten about what that experience was like for me growing up.

The memory, introduced for the first time to my adult mind, struck me a bit hard. Looking back more and more on my childhood, my younger self seems more and more disturbingly troubled. I debate whether or not to just forget about it all and move on.