It’s my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to…
I don’t know why I always think things will change. People will care/try more, stupid things won’t keep happening, I won’t keep being left entirely responsible for my own happiness.
Maybe I am co-dependent, maybe you should only depend on yourself to make yourself happy and whatever else, whomever else, comes along is just extra?
I don’t know if it’s high expectation or low results, but I can’t remember a birthday where, at least at some point during the day, I haven’t felt depressed. Not because I’m getting older (though I’m starting to reach the age where I want the years to start pausing or even rewindng), but because of what happens – or lack thereof.
Maybe things will be better once some sort of celebration is under way; family dinner tomorrow (though by family, I mean my parents and myself because everyone else is far too busy to think of joining us) and Saturday I’m planning on a big dinner with my friends in the city. If I can find a suitable restaurant; I called one today but for a group our size they had a fixed menu with a price of $60 per person! Outrageous. Funny, but the one person actually helping me with all of it is a girl I met exactly a year ago at my friend’s wedding; we’ve met up once since then to go to a vegetarian restaurant since we both are of that persuasion. C’s been no help at all. He actually just called; apparently I’ve been home alone for hours because they’ve all been out running errands (and finally getting me some sort of gift?) but didn’t even remember to actually say ‘Happy Birthday.’ Oh well, we’ll see how the week pans out, I guess.
And yes, I know I’m a whiny bitch. I’ll be better tomorrow.
