Birth

Where do I begin?

Honestly, it's a weird feeling. I can't even explain it myself.

Today's my birthday! The 9th of December, the day I was brought to this world, the day a crazed lunatic was given birth to. I like my life. Heck, I love it. I'm much more fortunate than others, and I'm grateful for that. Truly, truly grateful. However, my life isn't all that perfect. I'm fighting with demons and inner wounds here, and I'm not sure I can shake em off.

My friends...

Do I even call them that?

The friends I have here are hard to understand. Or, at least, one group is. Sometimes I feel comfortable with them, I feel like maybe I could be apart of their group. Other times, I feel like an outsider. Like a stranger looking in. Like some weirdo, wanting too desperately to be called a friend. To be trusted, to be liked, to be accepted.

But isn't that what teenage society's like these days? Wanting acceptance? Wanting love and trust? Wanting something more than just innocent smiles and controversial physical contact?

I have other friends, maybe. But I find it hard to converse with them.

What am I saying... I'm going off topic.

Today's my birthday. I had a party tonight.

Not so much a party, as more to a dinner. A lovely dinner, with lovely people. It was tame. It was nice.

But I miss my friends in kk. The people I can be my absolute self with, and they won't judge. The people who're easy to get along with, and easy to understand. My friends, in kk, who never get to celebrate my birthday with me because I'm always gone, or they're always gone.

Why is it like that? There has to be meaning in it.

Sometimes I get the feeling they're all pretending.

I feel as if they, my friends here, all don't like me inside. They use me. As an excuse. As a reason. As an advantage. They use me, and pretend to like me, and in the end, leave me broken and busted in the corner like an old used toy. I hate thinking that way. The pessimism will rot my brain. But I can't help it. I've gone through it before, and I can't help but feel I'm going through it again.

I have three more hours until my birthday ends. Until the day will become just another ordinary day once again, and I mean almost nothing to the people around me. To them, I'm expendable. Bring in another cool Malaysian who can draw, sing, and write. One who's prettier. One who's better at conversations.

They'll forget about me in no time.

It's a downwards way of thinking. I know that.

The thought of her helps. It's not serious. Not really, I think. But this is the first time that someone's made my ear hot for a whole night just by sitting close to me. When she was there, I thought I could handle myself well. And I did. We made light conversation that mostly resulted to laughter, and I was controlled. Except my ear blasted out in heat. It was annoying, sure.

But honestly, it made it easier to decide.

I didn't wish for her when I blew out my birthday candles. I wished for someone who'd love me the same way I'd love them. I wished for someone, anyone, who will make me feel that way again. I blew out all candles at the same time. That gave me hope, as if somehow God was telling me that wish will come true.

But how selfish of me, to think that way.

People are starving out there, suffering from actual wounds, battling the urge to give up and die. They have no home, and those who have been hit by the typhoon lost their family and friends.

Who am I to wish for such high demands?

I'm no one. I don't deserve that kind of treatment.

But if there was a chance, even just a small chance, that my birth meant something. That I'm here on this Earth for something bigger...

I just wish for this.

Give me love, and I will give you my soul.

Happy 15th Birthday, Kye.