in this heartbreak world

For as far back as I can remember, I have always spent my birthday alone. Sure, for many of those years I was surrounded by friends and family in some form of celebration or other - for which I am blessed - but they were always tinged by the bittersweet knowledge that my heart was always elsewhere, and usually, not in one piece.

Ten years ago, my sister walked into my room to pull me away from my computer so we could go out to a surprise birthday party from my family - only to find me crumpled in my chair in front of an IM conversation where M was telling me to leave her alone. Still shaking from the grief and the heartache, I could do nothing to explain but hand her the binder of printed chat logs from 8 months prior that chronicled the painful journey that had brought me to that day.

Since then, every birthday has been met with a mixture of anticipation and dread - it was a day to celebrate a life that I'd frequently felt was not worth living at all. The only thing special about the day was how it reminded me that while another year had gone by, I was still alone.

But every year, despite not being particularly a believer of superstitions, I would give the only gift I could give myself on that day: a wish for that person, whoever she was at the time, to be happy. And then I'd say to myself wistfully, "Maybe next year will be different." In the recent years, I'd begun to give up on that last part.


I almost made it this year. For a little while at least, it looked as if this would be the first birthday ever where I wouldn't feel alone, even as I knew well ahead of time that she would not even be here to celebrate with me. I would have been more than happy to spend the day knowing that I was in her heart and in her mind. But less than a week ago I found myself once again faced with the reality that this year would be just like all the ones before it.

And so it goes.

But in spite of that, this year is different. As I'm putting this mess that is my heart back together, I'm discovering that each and every piece of it is filled with gratitude: for having loved and been loved in return, even if it was just for one day; for the memories of the past months and of the months - no, years to come; and for a friendship that I will cherish and hold dearly for the rest of my life.

This year, like the years before, I will make a wish for you to find the happiness you're looking for. But I will also wish for one thing more: that no matter where life takes us, even if we must ultimately walk our paths separately, we will always have each other.