Past birthday
I remember being so sad on my 19th birthday. Happy because it was the day Corey graduated from high school and I got to spend it with him, but sad because…it was the first birthday I have ever had that felt completely insignificant. The girls and I have always agreed that 19, and, to some extent, even 20 are fairly routine birthdays because they don’t really carry anything special with them: no “being a teenager,” no license, no freedom, no ability to drink. But I know that just because there wasn’t a “privilege” doesn’t mean that I should have felt…alone. Perhaps it’s selfish to have felt that way on May 24th, 2003 simply because it was my birthday, but society has raised me to feel that my day of birth should be SOMEwhat important. Am I so petty that the first year that I do not have a party or receive presents is the first time that I do not feel loved? Or was it simply that the failure of anyone (I should not say ANYone, but most people) to acknowledge my existance on that day was incredibly depressing?
Somehow, though, I think 20 will be better…