Yesterday was my birthday.
I feel like that’s all that needs to be said. Since my day was as lame as that sentence.
I “celebrated” 31 years of life by just making it through the day.
No one even told me Happy Birthday to my face until I lost my temper with little E over something petty at night and raised my voice (which I hardly do), and so I had to apologize to him. I explained that even though it wasn’t an excuse, I was feeling frustrated that it was my birthday and I had had a bad day, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on him. So that made him cry and then it made me cry and that made me feel even more shitty. All because I was feeling sorry for myself.
So I called him over and gave him a hug and he explained that he felt bad for not saying Happy Birthday and I told him I wasn’t mad at him at all, I was just pouting. So we hugged and that was my one “Happy Birthday” all day.
It’s stupid and pathetic, and normally I don’t make a big deal about my birthday anyways, but this year I thought it might be different.
And the reality of that hurt more than anything I could imagine.
-50 Cent/In Da Club-