My Birthday

Well, today has been my birthday. I was told yesterday that I am now officially legal, which, since it was by someone I've never met in my life was a little too far beyond creepy for me. Around 80 or so of my closest and dearest friends decided they'd all pitch in and get me what I've always wanted though, 80 or so wall posts on my Facebook page. Jealous? Thought so.

I could spend this entire post being sarcastic about how that's not exactly the best way to show someone you care, but I told myself that I wouldn't spend my birthday that way. I was going to be happy regardless of whether my friends completely ignored me for a day or if they threw me the greatest party ever, which would probably be located at the swanky Chuck E. Cheese. A finer establishment has never been owned by a giant, incredibly terrifying mouse.

No, instead of going that route, I'm going to try something I only try once in a while. Actually, I think it's safe to say that I'm going to try something hardly anyone tries any more than "once in a while." Instead of giving jokes and humor, which, granted, are a big part of me, I'm going to give you something honest, and real, and probably a little bit embarrassing.

Well, here it is. I call it What I Really Want For My Birthday.

What I really want for my birthday doesn't come in a box or an envelope. It won't fit in my wallet or be hung up in my closet. I won't play it in the DVD player or add it to the new music playlist on my iPod. No prior experience will be necessary and no assembly will be required. It won't come in completely unopenable plastic packaging and a 30 day money back guarantee won't be necessary.

What I really want for my birthday is love. To be in love. It sounds ridiculous and it's probably selfish of me, but nothing sounds more wonderful and amazing to me than love. I don't want to make it sound like I'm just desperate and in need of companionship. What I really want is the real thing. The kind that makes it so your heart and brain are going so fast that there's no way your lips will ever be able to catch up and say what's actually going on. The kind that makes it not only okay to be yourself, it makes it absolutely necessary, because without you, it's no longer there. I want to be able to watch a romantic comedy and think that they don't know what they're missing instead of wondering about what I don't have. More than anything, this is what I want.

Well, that and an iPhone.