He told me he was still mad that he wasn’t talking to me on his 20th birthday. That he stills wishes he could have celebrated with me. That this recurrence of feeling was why he was so worked up and angry that he couldn’t see me on my birthday. (We can set aside the time spent taking him to the hospital for now.)
He told me he planned a day to make up for it. I told him not to tell me, to surprise me, because I wanted to yet again attempt to not build expectations to encourage disappointment.
He cancelled the hike because it drizzled a bit. I bought myself a cake, and some yarn for a friend’s gift. I wanted to study a bit before dinner, we were supposed to do a fun neon body paint black light photo shoot. He went to bed at 8:30.
I asked one of my friends to celebrate one-week of 21 on Wednesday. I didn’t forget to pick up candles, and my stepmom ordered a surprise cake that I can pick up. I’ll write myself a birthday card that morning.
I should probably drop this soon.
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