Birthday

It was January once again. I was sitting in my room alone, as always. It was the 2nd. Friday. I was having such a normal day by myself. Watching my favourite television shows and eating chocolate. Still Christmas holidays. My school wouldn’t start until the 7^th. I was just normally watching Sherlock Holmes when it hit me. It would be my birthday next Friday.

 I love the idea of being 17 after a week. But, you know, I don’t even have friends. I have no friends to celebrate it with. And that is depressing as hell. My sweet 16 was sadder than a Grimm brothers’ story. I invited my crush, but he didn’t come. So as a stupid I-will-make-him-jealous-tactic I invited another boy. The boy was obviously into me, but I though he was just cute.

We went out to eat. I mean me, the other boy and three other people from my class. I got a few gifts, nothing special. It was such a bad birthday actually. At night I ate some puppy-pictured cake with my parents, watching world was z (which was a terrible mistake)

In general, my birthdays have been depressive as hell. It was my last birthday party ever, when I turned nine. It was maybe the worst birthday ever. I had to invite all my classmates and uh… it didn’t end well. All the bitches in my class totally ruined the atmosphere. I was trying to have fun, but they were bossing around and… well, it was my last birthday party ever.

For a few (many) years I just invited one friend to come over. I was so sick of my life so young… It makes me sad when I think of my life. Until I turned 16, I celebrated my birthday with my best friend. I wanted to do something big on my sweet 16 birthday. It all collapsed already when my crush said no to my invitation.

And now, years after my 9^th birthday, I still can’t have big parties. On my sweet 16 birthday I realized I don’t have friends. It wasn’t such a nice thing to realize alone in my room at 2am when I can’t sleep after a bad movie. But yes – I don’t have friends. Except for the ones that live on the other half of the earth. And yes – I have a best friend. But that doesn’t count, because she lived too far away so I could have screwed up our friendship, too.

Is the problem in me, or why don’t I have friends? I wish I had this whatever friend group, and I could like… be myself with them. We would do crazy stuff and have fun and just live our lives together. Maybe I need to change my attitude. Maybe I need to stop pushing people away from me. But I know that eventually, no matter how hard I try, I will push people away. I am not a good friend, I know it. But I just wish… I wish I had friends.