NEVER HAVE I EVER HAD A FUN BIRTHDAY IN MY [SUPPOSED] ADULT YEARS.

I don’t know why birthdays are so important to me, I thought I would outgrow the excitement and the need for presents as I got older but here I am, still wishing for a cake, a party and a great day on one of my birthdays. The pathetic memories of the last 6 years haunt me, my birthday spent crying, and wishing things were different but year after year feels like a repeat.

But I guess I should be happy I’m alive, isn’t that the whole point, averagely 365 days around the sun, except most times I’m not and I wish i was the opposite.