Happy Birthday!
I wake up to the sound of those two words and see my little sister standing over me beside the bed. I wipe my eyes and stretch, mumbling a groggy "Thank you" in reply. I'm sleepy. Really sleepy. I spent the night giving Taylor Swift's new album a listen, and though I found the record fantastic, it did little to prolong my sleeping hours.
Then I hear my stomach growl and find it pointless to fall asleep. So I get up and get out of my room.
My Mom comes over and hugs me. "Happy Birthday, sweetie," she says.
I smile and hug her back, trying to ignore that tight feeling in my chest. The words sound hollow and I feel myself numb.
Come on. I try to cheer myself up. Grouches who are pessimistic on their birthdays don't live long.
I don't hate birthdays. I just don't see them as a big deal. Well, at least I don't see my birthday as a big deal. Celebrations tend to be simple. Just the fam. The one time I tried to throw a big bash, it was tedious and I felt like the fakest person alive. The days I did show excitement for my birthday, I usually ended up disappointed. So yeah, there's that too.
My birthday has basically ended, and it really has felt like any other day.
But it turned out better than I expected.
If there's one way I celebrate my birthday, I try to spend the day feeling as childish as I possibly can. I watched Ponyo, which is a Japanese-anime movie made by Studio Ghibli (they make awesome animations, their repertoire is a must-watch). I remember watching this one, years ago when it first released and it was magical and fantastic. It made me feel like a kid again.
I got out of the house which was a relief. Took a look around the department store, scouting things and neccessities I might need for the move, but that didn't even lead to any purchases. The shopping bags I did bring home were full my mother's stuff.
What do you want for your birthday?
That question leaves me tongue-tied for awhile. Any question really that refers to "what I want" is usually answered with silence than actual words. I don't really like to shop. Or correction, I don't like to over-shop and no matter what I do, I'll always feel guilty about purchases however minor. I'm scared I'll go overboard, or splurge on something I want but don't really need. I need to be certain that I deserve whatever I'm getting for myself, and well, that seldom happens.
Everyone's pretty occupied. My birthday seems irrelevant in hindsight, and I really see nothing wrong with that. We planned on watching Skyfall this evening, but since my Dad had to work late, it'll have to wait for tomorrow.
My parents even forgot to buy me my birthday cake. And I didn't remind them. There's a slice of Oreo Ice Cream cake left over from my sister's birthday, and I've been saving it for awhile.
They did feel bad about it though, and tried to make it up for me with one birthday ritual: blowing out the candles.
The place the small green candle in front of me, one my Mom usually uses for aroma therapy. The scent of green apples fill the air.
Blowing the birthday candles is synonymous with making the birthday wish. Does anyone else find it a bit strange? We're asked to thing about our wishes and hopes by having these gentle flames lit in front of us, these little beacons of orange light. Then we're asked to blow them out, as if their disappearance makes all those wishes come true.
What did I really want right now? I really have no idea.
I look at the faces of my smiling family, think about the life that awaits for me in less than two weeks. I think about the friends I've just met, the friends I'm leaving behind, but so far with gladness and cheer.
What more could I really ask for?
Make a wish.
I blow upon the candle and watch the restless flame die.
But I don't dare to wish for anything more.
--Karin Novelia, Birthday Girl
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