soon 34.

                                                    
On 27th, I turn 34.
I don't like my birthdays. Each year, although I know well from experience that it's best not to, I am thrilled with expectations. Will they remember? Will I get a present? It is like a child never left this body a long time ago as it should have. And each year I turn disappointed.
I am not afraid to get older. I count the years just when the others make me aware of them. I really don't care. The world around me cares enough about it to constantly pour ideas of what I should be/have by this age.
I only care about the human factor. Because when I dream of the loved ones remembering my birthday or giving me a small present I actually care about the way I relate to them and they relate to me. Love is the engine that gets us going.
I have 3 female friends with whom I usually hang out. So this year when Adina asked me what I want for my birthday, my mind went blank. I knew she and the girls went over the "surprising the birthday girl" a couple of years back. We tend to buy things that are useful and needed. But I don't actually need the things one could buy. My closet is full of clothes, half of them rarely worn, my bookshelves are full of books and I have plenty of jewellery.
I recently found out that the books I used to give for a loved one's birthday are being sold to avoid cluttering. To me, not the book itself was sold, but the time, energy, feelings invested in searching the perfect book were wiped out. I felt sad, but I understood that, in the end, nothing can be preserved. Things cram up, storage is not enough and they are just books.
I've printed some photos for my friends. Photos with us 4: years back till now, fine memories. Put them in envelopes and will hand them at my birthday. Emotional fool that I am!
Actually on 27th they will not be here. They will come back the next day as they have some personal things, travel to do. On 27th 2010 I was extremely sick. I could not sleep for 3-4 days and parents and Adina guarded me. I could only sleep seated. I had a bile acute crisis. On 2011, my friends handed me an envelope with some money. The worst gift. On 2013, the man I loved forgot about my birthday. I made a drama out of it. I admit I was not mature enough but it was not the day itself. I felt as if I am getting thinner, vaporising from his thoughts. And my feeling was right. We drifted away during the year to come and left a huge wound in my heart. Worked on mending it a whole year after that. I tried to see things from a different perspective. Grow as a person. Be strong. Cultivate my own happiness. In 2014, I joined Ozgur in Italy. Wanted to give myself the best present ever. But she kinda had a non-talking episode. Didn't go that well after all.
So I am not looking forward for 2015. My birthday scares me. I might even turn off my phone. I don't longer need the universe to celebrate me. I am just an insignificant, ephemeral grain of sand. And I don't need any material present.
All I need is for my loved ones to be next to me. Love is the biggest present.