I want to chalk up today's lackluster feelings of melancholy to prolonged sleep deprivation. Channahboo called to serenade me a happy birthday song and tears came to my eyes. I blame exhaustion for my emotions.
When I was 16 I dreaded my birthday. I remember thinking 18 was old and getting depressed just from trying to envision such a number. Now 30 is the new 18 (possibly in more ways than one?).
I wore sweats all day, masked my sadness with happiness for others, appreciating young love, defiantly refusing to be bitter. No, I am not that kind of friend.
Today has seen the light of 3 international phone calls, 4 voices serenading me, countless messages, and the realization that for the first time in years I did not receive flowers on my birthday. Maybe that's what you get when you push away every man who has ever loved you so much without reason that they envision arising with you every morning. It took me an hour just to motivate myself to make coffee. I can't remember the last time I felt so alone. (Our conversation does not go unappreciated.)
Maybe I should have read tehillim, or went to the gym straight away. Maybe I should have put on a pretty dress and made up my face. I leave that for tomorrow. Let this weekend wash away all of last month's stress. Am I allowed to be selfish now? Am I allowed to find love? What have I been chasing after for the past 3 years...?
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