Birthdays were the worst days....

I always hate it when my birthday comes around. Normally I fib and say I don't like celebrating with friends because they are bent on making throw up, but on the real, my real fear is seeing who actually shows up on my birthday. I hate being one of those people who question the intentions of their own friends. Sure, I've been screwed before, been used before, and even been left alone before, but I'm at that point where I'm all about who's down for me at the moment. Trying to define constant companions is a timely manner that takes years upon years to build, and whoever was a constant for me this year may not be next year. We truly do not know who our constants are until a span of a couple years pass and we see who have been good with maintaining such contact.

Unfortunately, the birthday is that defining time to reflect on who you are. You question where your position is in life, and look to who support you later on. Frankly, I feel more comfortable on who's going to show up to my funeral, because I would not have to witness who shows and who doesn't. At least then I will be in such inner peace that these things won't matter to me. Case in point, my homegirl Tran, who lost her brother a couple years ago. During his funeral, a whole slew of his friends show up at the church. They even hung around the house after, a lot of them not knowing the family but thats how their devotion to him runs. Having that much love from my friends for my birthday is a wish I can ask for, but it shows that people take these things for granted when you are still alive.

Either way, I'm about to go to a bar, and get shitfaced with 5 or 10 of my friends at the given moment. I anticipate who shows up, but as I write this piece, I continue to stare into the world in my rear view.