"Birthdays are such a sad reminder." She huffed and twirled her pencil as she planned a list of gifts to buy.
"Why?"
"A year closer to death."
My eyes opened up wide as I tried to put birthdays and death in the same category. "But birthdays represent the day you were born, not die."
"I don't know. It just makes me feel like we're getting old and just fading away like how a piece of paper is when lighted on fire."
"Love, a birthday shouldn't bring sadness to your heart. It's a reminder that your heartbeat is a lovely song another year. It might have sounded like thump thump thumpity thump and it might sound like that next year too, but as long as it's singing, you should be happy, not sad. It's a reminder that you made it through all of the crap that life threw at you. You dodged them, caught some of them, and threw it right back—with a big smile that says hell no, you will not ruin my day. And sometimes when you accidentally look somewhere else and get hit by life in a painful way, you take in a deep breath, touch that sore spot and feel the pain slip away. Then you throw it back out of the world and stand up."
"Thanks for that pep talk." She smiled and checked off the day in a calendar.
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
