Reasons to dislike birthdays.

I have something against birthdays. Of course, this negative passion hasn't been always, as those who know me longer know. It was sparked in 2010, only to be confirmed in 2012. These two years contributed to my dislike for birthdays.

I shall now tell you something, a huge part I left out from the story which I had written about in "My last post". Go ahead and judge me, or change your perspective of me. I don't care. I just need to get this out right now.

2010. My 15th birthday. Remember the guy who caught my eye a year before, and who noticed me only to treat me nothing more than a sister? He is Red. By this time, I actually did wanted to tell him my feelings for him.

I only managed to spend it with him the day after my actual birthday, after I got birthday bashed by the Malay girls from my cliuque with water [that was awesome fun shit]. We headed to our carpark rooftop; this shelter where we always climb onto and lie down and just watch trees and skies.

On that particular day Red and I got ourselves cinammon melts which we ate, side by side on the rooftop. This rooftop was our usual haunt back in those days; there's this little shelter where we can both climb onto, difficult to be reached by normal people.

We weren't a couple, nope. But we cuddled right there on the rooftop, yes, in perfect view of the HDB flats all around. Our cuddle wasn't so indecent though, of course. Okay, it was just lying on laps and lying down close to each other, and holding hands. That's it.

We made our way down before it got dark, and that was where he pulled me into a hug. A birthday hug, I suppose. It was long, it was strong, it was passionate in a way.

He let me go, and he said goodbye; put on his headphones and turned his back on me after giving one last smile.

I sat down, took out my phone; saw the note on my homescreen and looked over the railings. He was already walking down the stairs about two storeys down. I called his name but of course, his headphones blocked me out.

At that moment I had all the courage in the world to tell him I like him. I had the courage for that, but... I didn't have the courage to even chase after him.

What does the note say? It says, with a smiley face at the end; "I MUST tell him on my 15th birthday!"

I still remember.

That was probably the first and last chance I had to tell him in person. The next time we met was when the first kiss happened, and right afterwards he got himself another girl as a girlfriend. The entire year afterwards, every once in a while I would think of my 15th birthday, blaming my lack of courage to be the cause of my loss, and that other girl's gain.

My 16th birthday was fine, because I ate pizza with half the girls, and, yeah, nothing messed it up. The year afterwards though...

2012. My 17th birthday. As you may know, 2012 was my lonely year. Nope. No best friends, no special someone, disappointing and unreliable family members.

But there was Black.

Five months before my 17th birthday, I had met up with Black several times already. We hung out, we talked, and we even cried together once. [we were getting emotional about our respective loneliness, but this is another story] And,... We also held hands, and hugged, and kissed. We were never a couple.

Of course eventually he wanted to take it further. And no, not a relationship, but sex. When I didn't give him what he wanted, he stopped talking to me or meeting me. Right to the week before my birthday... I'm sorry. But you couldn't blame me. I was lonely. I texted him, and I remember my exact words, because I read that text over and over before and after I sent it to him; "It's my birthday next Wednesday. Will you spend it with me?"

And I also roughly remember his reply because I read it so many times it just etched itself into my head: "Meet me in the evening. And you better let me birthday bash you.", somewhere along those lines. I remember the phrase 'birthday bash'. I knew exactly what he meant.

My 17th birthday was what caused my loss of innocence. We did it at 5 in the morning at "the usual place", as he would call it.

Afterwards was when things between my parents and I got more heated up and complicated. Every time I ran away, or hid in my room with tears and bruises, the first person I'd text, or call, was Black. He never answered. I was delusional; everyday I would text him without fail, telling him things which I couldn't tell anyone else because, well, there was nobody else. He never replied any of my messages.

The only times he texted me was when he needed his sexual therapy... And because I had gotten 'addicted' to it as well after my 17th birthday, I would always give it to him. He was careful whenever he did it; he was gentle, and he also took care of my feelings afterwards. He would stroke my hair and kiss me tenderly. I'm sorry. I was blinded by his words and his touch, and I didn't think I was doing anything wrong at all. It was the feeling of being wanted and needed that made me keep going back to him.

But he never came to me when I needed him.

I know it's my fault, but this, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why I now dislike birthdays. Are you really going to treat someone special only on this one stupid day? Are you going to reject the person on other days no matter how much they need you? Because that's what Black did, and I'm going to grow old believing that everyone else does that every year to me too, past and future.

Not to mention the parents... Your birthday, they love you. They kiss you. The rest of the year, they shun you, they hit you, they hate you. What's the point of the birthday? Does it exist just to show you that you're only gonna be loved on that one day? I'd rather be treated like shit everyday.

That's why I don't want any presents, or even wishes on my birthday. Don't treat me special. Just treat me like how you would on normal days. Deep inside, I'm wishing that I get a miracle birthday to make me forget this hate I have for my special day. But I know it's not going to happen, with all the girls busy and with the prince unable to come to Singapore.

"Black" is "Red" 's elder brother. They are twins.

And with this post written, yesterday was my 18th birthday.

I hate the feeling of being left behind. I really do. Like there was a chance to have fun, to glow, to laugh, but unable to. Very much like how I didn't go for prom last year, very much like how I didn't get to wear pretty baju kurungs for Hari Raya this year.

I don't blame the girls though. I did tell Siying to make sure they didn't plan anything special for me like they always did, so I can't get angry at them. I'm not even. There's a reason though. Maybe if I straightout told them, then at least I'd know I wouldn't get anything. It beats having expectations which remain unmet. So it's okay.

I'm not going to blame my aunt and grandmother either. They're busy too. And my granny can't go out or celebrate as she likes, if you know what I mean. It did make me sad when she saw me dazing on the couch and said, "Birthday girl never go out today? So sad ah hahahaha poor thing..."

Just another year to add to my Reasons Why I Hate Birthdays. Yet, deep down inside as usual, I wish that my next birthday would be better.