It’s July 1st which means it’s my birth month already. I don’t know why but I can’t feel any excitement. All I can think of is remembering my birthday three years ago. It is the most memorable party in my life.
It was my debut. I dreamt of having a grand party with family and friends when I was younger, wearing a huge dress and flowers by the aisle and balloons overcrowding the venue. I didn’t get exactly what I wanted but they thrown me a better one. It was a surprise bash. I was completely clueless we are celebrating. I arrived at the venue last wearing a pink simple dress with a little makeup on while my relatives wait for me. As I enter the hall, my eyes filled with tears and I feel so overwhelmed with what’s happening. They all smiled at me and I feel blessed and loved. My little angel gave me a bouquet and the place was full of butterflies, and there were balloons too! Sadly I got no friends there because I never got the chance to invite them because again it was unpredicted. Nevertheless, it is my best birthday memory.
Don’t get me wrong. I am always happy at my birthday, and grateful too. But I wasn’t always delighted. Yes, the right word is delighted. And this makes me sad. I am starting to think maybe it is all in me. I mean, everyone around me sees to it that I always feel extraordinary on my special day and I do, really. It’s just that, maybe, I’m expecting for more. Or hoping for more. I got it all confused.