Birthdays

I have to come to hate my birthday. I never used to. I used to love my birthday and even count the days, weeks, etc until it arrived. But fact is it was never really satisfying. It always left you wanting more. Except maybe my 16th. That was a good time. I guess this growing disgust came to a head last year when I turned 40. Determined to have a great 40th I planned everything myself. But in the back of my head I wished for a surprise party. Its my 40th, right? The one people always plan  a big party for? Well. It didn't happen. I mean I had friends do great things. We saw a show and the girls went away for the weekend (which I paid for my part myself and another girl had a birthday too). But I kept waiting for something more. Nothing. And then I got mad at myself because it just seemed so self centered. Well this year has come up fast. And people have asked me what I want to do and the fact is I don't want to do anything. It feels forced and like an obligation I am placing on others. "You must make me feel special." It's not like I go out of my way for my friends so why on earth should I expect that from them. Maybe part of it is feeling guilty for my cousin. Maybe if more people including myself let him know how appreciated he was he would still be here. Birthdays are a farce and I don't like farces. Unless they are sci-fi related. Happy birthday to me.