Dreaming

I thought it would be better if I died.

A hopeful wish really, but one I still believed in. I wanted to go away. For everything to end.

Only, I entered an agreement for a new feeling. One which brings me pain.

I figured it would be better if I was deceased.

My rotting body used to study various diseases. For science of course. While my mother grieved and my father went on living. I figured, that with time, memories of me would fade.

Only, I entered a realm of false hope. When memories fade only to become the chains that choke me with yesterday’s desires.

I just wanted to go away.

At least Google Remembered

October 20.

1993.

I was born.

I am now 27 years old and only just starting to feel like an adult. Maybe that is why no one remembered that there was any reason to celebrate. Adults don’t have parties. They don’t sit in anticipation wondering what all they receive in gifts. The don’t hover over a cake awkwardly standing as family and friends sing happy birthday to them.

No, instead they do what I did.

Treat it like another day. They don’t sit awkwardly refreshing their social media pages waiting for someone to send them that special message. Hoving around their phone just waiting for someone to call. Sitting in bed trying to come up with excuses why they shouldn’t cry.

I am an adult and I no longer need that validation that my existence matters. I don’t need family and friends to celebrate with me. It’s just another day. I don’t need anyone.

Happy Birthday to me.