I've always pondered on deaths door, but he's never opened. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life.
I want to be in my suit, in my coffin, in the ground and my soul to be gone. I've been wa...
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My birthday has never been a happy day. Its weird to think about it, but it's true. It's a day of remembrance. Specifically to my mother.
She's never celebrated my birthday. Rather she locks herself in the room to cry her eyes out until the clock strikes midnight. She doesn't wish me, she doesn't buy me gifts, she doesn't bake my cake. She just cries.
My father on the other hand is trying to negotiate with my mother to leave the room on the other side of the door. He will sit there for hours, whispering loving words to her yet she won't budge. He sometimes buys me gifts, but most years he forgets. It slips his mind that it's a day about me.
Norah always forgets it's my birthday until late at night. It will only occur to her when she connects the dots on why my mother is crying which is weird since she doesn't know the story from seventeen years ago.
From the beginning, my birthday is littered with memories of being alone and abandoned and discarded in my family. The only part that makes it feel okay is that Dylan was there with me. Through all the ways my family has failed me, my friend did not.
Friends is the wrong term to use as we aren't friends. We are brothers. In every way except biological. Whether we say we dislike each other or not, we're inseparable. We have each other's backs.
Like I said... he's my brother. My other half. The only one who understands and he'll always be that person to me.
He never seemed to forget like everyone else did. He was the first person to wish me, to buy me a gift and to bake me cake. He's the first person to make me feel seen in this world and I'm hoping it stays that way.
However, instead of celebrating my birthday or receiving wishes, I'm inside Nida's house getting in touch with her culture. I'm not complaining since she asked me last week if we could watch Bollywood movies, but it seems as though she has forgotten that it is my birthday.
We're currently watching a film called Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. This film is weird as it's about a girl who's been put on a quest by her dead mother to play matchmaker with her father and her dads high school best friend.
Nida said this is her favourite movie as a child to the point she would watch it every single day at her grandparents house.
If I'm being honest, I don't get the hype on this movie. It's unnecessarily long and it has too many songs. "It's half time." Nida says, standing up and stretching her body. My head lifts up as my eyebrows furrow. "Half time?"
She nods, cracking her knuckles as she rolls her neck. "It's a break time like in sports. The movie isn't over." My eyebrows shoot up and my eyes go wide. "It's not over! How much longer?" I drop back onto the couch, letting out a breath. "We've got another hour and a half."
I shut my eyes and pretend to be dead. I really can't do these Bollywood movies. "Shah Rukh Khan!" I jump at the sound of Rohan's voice. My heart pounds out of my chest as I search around the room for him. He stands by the entrance of the living room, pointing at the TV as he chews on his apple. "I'm waiting for Shah Rukh Khan to text me back."
