the day after

the day after your birthday is always the worst day. you are suddenly sober, and you start to remember all the people that forgot your birthday, like your friend (((ex))) boyfriend that you still love, your aunt and your grandma (the only living grandparent you have). you remember how much your feelings were hurt by another (((ex))) boyfriend that you still love, that you're still in love with, and you remember how on the previous night, on your one month break up anniversary, you were finally worn down enough, heartbroken enough to give up, and give him exactly what he wants - for you to do just that: give up. you kick yourself for not asking the other birthday boy at the bar on a date, and typically, you're hungover and tired enough from staying up late, drinking, and the rain outside to sort of forget how awesome all your friends are until you see the flowers balloons, presents, and ludacris posters hanging around the house. so in order to counter this feeling of lonliness, sadness, and feeling like vomitting from the coffee/beer combo, you send a message to your best friend of all time about the state of your life. you put your head down and begin to plow through the huge pile of graduate student homework that you seem to always have and hope that the day is over soon. you hope that you will be able to fall asleep early even though you slept in until 2 pm. you hope you start to hope again the next day: that the (((ex))) boyfriend that you still love, that you're still in love with, will reconsider and fix everything that is broken, that your friend (((ex))) boyfriend will say hes sorry for forgetting your birthday and visit you on thanksgiving to give you a big hug and kiss, and that grandma will buy you a new pink bike for your birthday that she forgot even though she has no memory deficits.