I said too much

I remember when my brother's friends came over to fill his room up with balloons for his birthday as a surprise, and I'd cleaned his room up for him beforehand cuz it probably wouldn't have been good otherwise

-And I'd stood, silently the next morning just gently picking up one balloon after another, observing the remnants of games and jokes that were scribbled across the elastic surfaces in scrawls, 

Just taking it in.

I remember when my cca mates planned one for their best friend of five years,

Right after the performance which I loved to be a part of

They'd pretended to argue, then switched off all the lights in the studio before re-appearing with a cake, candles, and a birthday song. Everyone was in on it, everyone had been briefed,

-And I'd sat, about to remove my stage make-up, clapping along- enjoying it because I liked her, too- and pushing away all thoughts that would ruin things for me.

I remember when people received balloons on their birthdays, had groups of others blatantly freaking out, days before about the gifts, going shopping together after school to decide it,

And the song, the song, the song, which the class sang in a congregation around a blessed soul

-And I'd watched, then thought about how there actually wasn't a need for something that grand (though I've heard of legends whereby they throw parties and have major celebrations),

There was just this tiny little desire for someone to sing for me,

For no one apart from family ever would plan such surprises for me

And I told myself that that was enough.

But let's face it, family is one thing, friends another, and neither can ever fully replace the other.
While some would pursue romance to feel whole, I want only the kind of belonging in a community,

An appreciation for what I am, my place in that big world,

-And I often wonder if I'm being too greedy for wanting more like this.

Rather than self-pity, I think this to be what they call loneliness.

I mean, everyone feels it at some point so it's not like I'm special,

But it hits me the hardest on birthdays,

And I guess I've just never wanted to admit it so honestly to myself.

.

And then I did something extremely cringe-worthy, self-involved, and pointless.

I fantasised about two people in school singing the song for me,

I pictured grinning too hard and hugging one of them,

And there was a tiny slice of cake, an unassuming candle,

And a flame that warmed me better than Milo does

-I couldn't help but be moved, by a reality that isn't real.

Because it was 2.30am when I somehow awoke like a wannabe vampire,
Unable to go back to sleep since, 

Reminded of past birthdays, my birthday,

This, birth, day.

It doesn't take a lot to move me, actually
.

I can't sleep

I don't know why, but there are days like these where the sleep gods desert me,

And I just can't sleep.

I'm sorry it's this up close and personal this time,

But I want to be comfortable enough to admit things, even if they aren't pretty.


.

Six years in this school,
This place I once told myself was a dream school,

And I've never had anyone sing me a birthday song.
Of course it's not the school's fault; I'm just saying that six years ago this hadn't been what I pictured, and looked forward to,
And every year I feel less excited for this one day because I'm never happy till school is over and I am home, when there is love and there is warmth.


Truth is, after waking up at such an ungodly hour,
I ended up feeling really unwell in school
But I stuck around anyway
Because I suppose I thought that if I lingered Long enough like a wandering ghost, one extra person will come up to me and make me feel special.


But I've always only felt special at home.
And during those few short hours, when Mom and dad are back from work,
And I'm babied and loved,

I feel like
Maybe family alone could be sufficient after all.

Maybe I'm not as plagued by this as I thought,
Maybe one childhood Friend outside of school
And one, good, loving family
Is all I need.





.
I cried from loneliness pretty much the whole day, really.

And it's odd that I should be this mopey on a special day,
But I didn't feel special.

It's always the little things..
It's always the same few 'friends' that I've made in the early years of being in this school.

'It's my birthday today, do you remember?' It was out in that jokish way of mine, when I'm trying not to be dramatic and possessed.
'Yeah! Facebook reminded me'
And I just looked at her.
All those conversations we've had, that first shopping trip we shared,
And the closeness I deluded myself into thinking existed.

'Aaaaand... You're not gonna wish me happy birthday?'
But somehow you'd taken offence to my words,
All you did was go 'I remember! I remember!' over and over again, as though I'd struck a chord in you and it was that painful to say those two words to me.


Frankly,I don't even know why I bothered, why I hoped so much for you to say those two words-
But this is like the birthday song I never had;
It means something along the lines of humans accepting you, liking you, and caring enough about you do one silly, shallow convention that doesn't even mean anything.
I wanted you to say those words,
But you didn't,
And I knew that this was just a mere repeat of my past six birthdays,
Where I'd gone to school with increasingly less expectations, more emptiness, and a lack of ability to feel disappointment.


Perhaps it's because it's the last year..

I thought that maybe it'd play out just a little differently
But I remembered the rumours, I remembered the oblivion, and I remembered the coldness.


And there in the library I couldn't help but cry,
I knew what it meant but it was slightly beyond my eighteen-year-old self to hold it back,

Because tears expressed my loneliness in a way that people wouldn't listen,
In a way that words couldn't do.







.
The only good thing was how this new friend had remembered that Natsume Yuujinchou is an anime close to my heart, personal and cherished because it relates so much to what I feel at times,
And she'd gotten me the Book of Friends with actual names of all the characters inside, in calligraphy.
The thing about this gift is that I don't think I've ever seen such thought and understanding poured into one, wrapping included- In which case it's not about wrapping skills but her awkward patching that made unwrapping a maze- And I've never had anyone from school treating me this well,
Not for someone like me-
And it was deeply meaningful because the book of friends is like her saying that I'm not alone, that I've got someone who knows and thinks about me,
Who actually remembers.



I don't know if you'll label me 'emo' for this, outdated as it is-
I just felt so happy that all I could do was hug her,
And then I was hit by a deep wave of loneliness,
Struck by the realisation that if I hadn't talked to her seriously for these past few months,
I would literally have no one left.


I think, I'll never stop caring.

And returning home today all of my family members were extra gentle with me,
Bro was so much less douchy, Mom was so much so smiley.
Everyone knew


... And I felt like the unhappiness that always haunts me on my birthday was alleviated, to the extent of elimination.

This isn't enough, because we need both family and friendship to feel complete.
It might make us weak,
But connections are what makes us strong.

And I don't have that,
But at least I've got the best family that anyone could ever ask for.





.
Typing this, I feel like I can live with this.
I feel like
No matter how much isolation I feel,
No matter how much snot drips from my nose and makes me look like a fool,
No matter how much solitude has overlapped with loneliness for me even though it never should have, and I'm feel the profound effects of that,
I can live with this,
I've got family
And I've got one, new, friend in school.

(I know it's never about quantity, but 'one' is powerful enough to make you double over with the complications of reflection.)