I never really liked my birthday. As a child it was because I would build the day up in my head. I would get excited only to ultimately be let down when the only calls I got were from family and the only activities that occurred were watching TV. As I got older that resentment stayed. I would tell people I didn't want to do anything only because the idea of inviting people to celebrate not only seemed desperate but also left me open to more disappointment if they said no. I did start planning small celebrations for myself as an adult: horseback riding, painting, a shopping day, new movies. This helped not make the day of miserable but did nothing to stop the impending doom I felt leading up to it. However, in my adult life, there has been an observed shift in what the day means. As a child it was about celebrating me and who I am. As I got older if was about the things I would get to accomplish that year and how close I was to other milestones. But now? Now it is a reflection back on what I accomplished at my now previous age. When the list is short and insurmountable when compared to my peers, my disposition plummets. A birthday is now a reminder of the life I didn't live. Never again will I be that age and what did I do with it? A birthday is one of the only fresh starts within the year that can be counted (the others being New Years Day and the First day day of Summer). I am sure I will spend my next year on this planet exactly how I spent my last.

The concept of Your Everything leaves you open to judgement and ridicule. It's like at award shows when the winner makes their way up the stage, crying and joyful, and waits for their turn to speak once applause dies down. There's only so many seconds to thank everyone in their life who got them to that point: friends, family, colleagues , etc. and forever after for people to watch an over analyze who the winner deemed worthy of mentioning and who got demoted to broad categories like "for everyone who supported me on this journey'. I could write about my family, or a specific member. I could write about God or some altruistic cause like habitat rehabilitation or UNICEF. I could write about a dog that I don't actually have or I could tie my love to a geographical location. Better yet, I can play the sympathy card and talk about something all consuming that has taken over my life, by proxy making it my everything. I also don't think this serves as a way to glorify an aspect of my life but as a way to ultimately diminish it. One (1) thing can not be my everything. What kind of life is that? Maybe my everything is being contemplative (or difficult depending who you ask). But as I write this my coffee is finally ready so for the next thirty minutes or however long it takes me to finish my drink, coffee will be my everything.