THE BITTERNESS OF TWENTY-ONE

I had been having great birthdays the last couple of years after I had a week of episodes on my 17th birthday; I put no expectation, I made plans and the day turned out pretty alright. But not this year. I made a plan that simply turned yesterday into a day that I was afraid of having: full of tears and ended with cutting and suicidal thoughts. WTF, I know. I don't like it more than you do.

I welcome twenty-one with a drink on one hand and words of reassurance on the other. I'm not even kidding that most of those people who called themselves my friends, legit forget about my birthday. Hey, I get it you're busy but even my own best friend only texted me saying, "omg it's your birthday!!!" and then nothing else. Am I the only one seeing the problem here??? justify it all you want but that's just wrong man. come on. I never needed a gift, but wishes from those who said and claimed to love me matter, always. And the one person that I thought would at least made my day better, even with the time difference, he decided to sleep through the day. Out of 24 hours +7hours from the time difference, we've only talked for about 15 minutes. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but for once I wished those—who makes me feel this way—the same pain and bitterness.

Another year has passed but a birthday is only an excuse to make people feel bad about themselves because as you get older, the more you and your bday being forgotten. This is why I keep saying to someone that I don't have him, not really. Because at the end of the day, especially these kinds of days, all I have is myself and no one else. Not your boyfriend, not your best friend, not your closest friends. Because people need to stop making such a big deal like birthday especially with one that has a specific age like 16, 17, 18 or 21. Like I'm just getting more wrinkle and getting closer to my death, and birthday sucks big time in the first place so don't put too much expectation on a specific age/birthday. People make a big deal out of something and they tend to forget to meet it or at least tries to meet it and then when the person who says that they shouldn't make a big deal out of something gets a bit excited about it, they decided to not fucking show up on the D-day. Which is a legit definition of what the fuck. So that is how I spend my twenty-first birthday, alone and bitter and in tears and heartbroken and disappointed, and ended up watching so many series episodes and eating fast food cs the person who supposed to have a movie date with you (this was my plan this year to avoid any episode cs I tend to have one on or after my bday) decided to sleep through your birthday when he knows how you feel about yesterday (he better be comatose or something men. this is not what I would have called as resting). Yet, I can't be upfront about my disappointment and bitterness because how can a birthday trumps death? Can't fucking with this. I'm just so damn done.