if the only time of the year you meet me is during my birthday, i don’t know if i should feel flattered or insulted.

Flattered because, hey! At least you remembered my birthday! Which, well, to be very honest my poor memory will never be able to do the same for others. (Or I hoped it wasn’t Facebook who reminded you)

Flattered because you took the effort to wish me, to meet me and to shower me with presents on my special day. Who wouldn’t like that? There certainly shouldn’t be a problem with this.

Here’s the thing. If you don’t give a shit about me on regular days, I’m not sure if you actually care for me or you’re just fulfilling social obligations. Hell, I don’t need your presents, or cakes, or surprises. All I really wanted was to spend quality time with you, to know that you care for me like how I cared for you, wondering how you’ve been, constantly trying to initiate to meet you but sadly, to no avail. We’re all grown up now, our friendships don’t revolve around material gifts or special occasions. I want to know what’s happening in your life, I want to know what’s the story about your marriage proposal, about your new job, about your bad day. I don’t want to like your photo and wonder, how have you been? Yes, you replied you’re doing great, but I want to hear it from you, I wanna know if you’re really happy, I  wanna know what bothers you, today I’m here, tomorrow I might not, cause life’s too short to be wondering. Let’s meet.


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