What seems to be a Cliche

4^th, August 2011

Thursday, 9:11pm

I retreated to my room right after dinner. Taking off my uniform and changing into some comfortable home clothes, I let myself feel the homey vibes radiated by my room. It may not be as tidy as it used to be but the perfect square, unusually messed up, and unsurprisingly girly space is the only sanctuary I have in this world which I consider as a perilous battlefield. In this room, I am queen. I do what I want, when I want and how I want it. So as I plunge into the alluring softness of my bed, I didn’t worry that I probably looked awful with my face distorted into a frown or that my body looked perfectly round with the numerous folds stuck in my belly.

What bothered me is that all of a sudden, I wish I was somewhere else with some loud, fun-loving companions who could make the noise inside me die down. Sigh. Now think about that. The whole day, you keep on dreaming for that time that you’d be all by yourself and when the moment of solitude comes, you just want to run away because along with solitude, are the memories.

Lying flat on your stomach, you feel lonely. You remember that in a few weeks, it would be your birthday again. It should excite you, but the thought of it makes you feel otherwise. The thought of your upcoming birthday makes you remember all your other birthdays where your mom bought you the most beautiful birthday dresses and invites almost everyone she knows and yet the only person who would have made everything else more meaningful and happy wasn’t there.

The thought of your birthday makes you remember that birthday of yours when you should have danced with him, and yet you hadn’t, because he wasn’t there.

And you try to remember that only birthday of yours that he was around. You didn’t have a celebration, you even cried, because he scolded you and you try to remember why. But it was so long ago, and you just can’t vividly remember anymore…. You dig deep into your heart and search for that memory, that one precious memory. You search for anything about it that could help you feel better. But you find nothing.

Suddenly, you realized, you’re a big girl.

Birthdays should mean nothing to you anymore. It should mean nothing but a date that marks the start of your existence in this world.