Tuesday, July 14, 2020

Post-Birthday Thoughts

The eve of my birthday, I spent the entire day reading, crying, and sleeping. And I didn't want to admit that to anyone, so it has taken me a few days to process. Even "saying" it now, it comforts me to know that not many people will read this anyway. 

It's possible that I had this silent expectation that something grand would take place, but my birthday came and went like any other random day of the week. For the past few days or so leading up to it, I had this notion that, year after year, no one cares enough to make a big deal out of my birthday, so why should I? It's not like I've ever had particularly spectacular birthdays in my adult life, so why "miss" it now? I guess it beats having to hunt people down to urge them to celebrate with me, which I've had to do every year, pretty much, since I turned 23...most of the time, to no avail.

I probably had no right to be disappointed - that there wasn't a surprise party waiting for my arrival, no en slew of gifts nor any notifications of nicely worded text notifications at midnight, no flowers, no montage of photos and videos posted on Instagram dedicated to me...just 2 (really awesome) t-shirts from my dad, cupcakes, 2 cards with some money; 1 from mi abuela and 1 signed by both of my parents - but I was, even if only just partially. Granted, my phone number has recently changed, so I couldn't be too mad about the lack of calls and text, however, there are so many ways to connect with people these days. Even the people I double checked to make sure had my up-to-date contact information, didn't hit me up. And I guess that stung a little more than I wanted it to. 

As appreciative as I am at the love I was shown and to simply be alive, there's still this undercurrent of sadness about how the day played out in general. I completely understand that, yes, we are in a middle of a pandemic, essentially, but people make time and space for things that are important to them and I will die on that hill. Also, this has been a reoccurring theme for the past few years. Even considering last year's inadvertent, yet super fun, night, funded entirely by my on again/off again b.f.f. from high school, there was still this layer of melancholy underneath the surface, only partially drowned out by liquor, that no one else showed up or didn't have time, which may have very well been due to lack of planning on my part. 

Watching people I know in real life on social media being celebrated in the smallest of ways, some going as far hosting intimate gatherings with a few friends, may have had something to do with the streak of envy I experienced as the day began to fade into the night. Before I know it, it was time to show love someone else, which I wasn't bitter about. It is what it is, yet two days after the fact, and the somberness hasn't quite subsided. Speaking of social media, I didn't even take cute pictures, no one around to shoot a few of me, to post with a long, caption eloquently gushing about how much I love myself and how thankful I am to see another year. No one cares enough to make a big deal out of my birthday, so why should I? As cynical as it sounds, maybe that was the indisputable thought process of my  own subconscious. 

On a semi-brighter note, I do hope that by next summer I'll have the means to safely travel and take a vacation to an island somewhere, perhaps with the love of my life and/or a couple of my closest friends. happy thoughts. I wish that for everybody, actually. Not having been around a large body of water has gradually taken its toll and I look forward to the day that luxury and happiness doesn't feel so far out of my reach. 

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