The birthday is finally over. I officially reached the age I’m dreading for the longest time. I’m now 30 … (Insert a sad, sluggish and weak face here)
When 2013 entered, I had my list of how to celebrate my …. 30th. (My mind and heart are still having a difficult time admitting that age.) I wanted an out-of-town getaway with my family, few friends or even on my own. I wanted to visit Nuvali to experience that man made lake, try a fancy restaurant and check the outlet shops around. After a day in Nuvali, I wanted a weekend stay in Tagaytay. I’ve been to Tagaytay quite a few times and all I had are pleasant memories. I love the lush greenery, cool temperature I don’t encounter in the city, and the relaxing view of the Taal Volcano. If I only I have the resources, I will surely acquire a real estate property in Tagaytay. I wanted my own sanctuary in the silent and peaceful area of Tagaytay.
Unfortunately, life or probably my laziness had other plans. Nothing in my list happened. Even my kid-at-heart dream of having a cake and birthday candle didn’t happen. Call me shallow but this gave me silent tears. The last time I had a real birthday cake was when I turned 18. After the much awaited birthday song, I uttered my wish, blew the candle, and I was showered with hugs and kisses from my family and a few friends. This never happened again.
On the last working day before my birthday, I treated my workplace friends for dinner. It was a birthday tradition I intend to keep. This time however, I was given an unexpected surprise. I underestimated my budget. I was happy with my friends but on the way home, my knees started to weaken because of unexpected bill. Nevertheless, I don’t have regrets. I blame my stupidity and poor budgeting skills.
A day before my birthday, I felt unwell. I had recurring colds, surprise dysmenorrhea, severe headache and signs of an upcoming fever. My patience was dwindling and my irritation hormones were escalating. Come Sunday, I hosted a simple get together with my paternal cousins. To be honest, I don’t have plans of pushing any sort of party or celebration with my family. I’m still drowning with the endless bills to pay and my new responsibility as the family’s bread winner. However, I don’t like to be tagged as the birthday grinch. Instead of spending on another fancy restaurant, I decided to invite everyone at home. I figured out that this is the cost effective way to celebrate. I gave the budget to my parents and they took care of everything. Though I was showing evident signs of agitation, I was thankful to my parents for organising everything. I was spared from the additional set of worries.
On the day of my birthday, my guests didn’t arrive on time. Much to my dismay, my cousins who were the lead bullies were absent.
I admit that I didn’t like the way I spent my 30th. It was the worst birthday I had over the recent years. It wasn’t a happy birthday after all. I gave in to the request of other people, only to later frustrate myself. I was already unwell. My family aggravated everything. Worst of all, I feel so guilty for enslaving and exhausting my parents.
It has been days after my birthday. I hate to admit it but I feel quite relieved that it was over. I’ve been dreading the day I will turn 30. Despite of this, I was hoping for a great birthday. I wanted this birthday to be remembered as the best. Unfortunately, the opposite of what I was expecting prevailed. I was given my own taste of sadness and bitterness.
I never wished for anything grand. This is something I learned over my years of existence. I mentioned this many times here. All I wanted was for things to turn out fine. On my 30th birthday, I never wished for the attention of everyone. Personal handwritten notes, hugs and kisses, great friends, I’m fine with these.
Unfortunately, life always have other plans.