Another year has gone by
And hopefully well spent.
I haven’t seen you this year,
Nor will I see you the next time I wish you a happy birthday.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your face at all.
Or heard your voice,
Listened to your laugh,
Or seen your smile.
What happened to us?
Why did we pull apart like we did?
I mean, I know why I walked away.
I walked away for my own sanity.
You don’t have an excuse.
No, you just walked out.
You just walked out and left me here.
Left me alone.
Left me broken and hurt and scared and sad.
Not knowing what in the hell to do with myself.
You left me here to bleed out.
But that was years ago, right?
The past is the past.
Doesn’t matter now.
Okay, I’ll accept that.
I’ll pick myself up and I’ll walk on.
But why is it that whenever I hear someone say my name
For a split second, I think it’s you?
Some days I’m disappointed when it’s not.
And other days
I hold my breath hoping it’s someone else.
Another year has gone by of you breaking promises.
Another year has gone by of you breaking hearts.
And treating the people that love you the most like ****.
Even though you never call me on mine.
Even though I remember your birthday better then I remember how to breathe in the morning.
No matter how much I try to forget your birthday I’ll never get it out of my head.
I’ll always remember the day you were born,
I mean, how could I forget the day that my worst nightmare was born.
To the one that crushed me.
I repeat it as if it is a mantra to give me my sanity back.
You don’t have to answer my texts,
I just want you to know that I’m wishing you a happy birthday.
And for every year that you have the same number
I will continue to wish you a happy birthday.
I you feel like responding, you will text back,
How have you been?”
I will respond with,
“I’m doing fine,
How about you?”
And then you will go on a tirade for 20 or 30 minutes about how great your life is
Or how sad it is.
And then you’ll ask me,
“So, what've you been up to?”
And I’ll probably get one "I've been good" out before you say,
“Yeah, that’s nice.
It’s been good talking to you.
And I’ll sit there holding my phone in some state of shock.
I’ll try to replay the conversation.
Trying to replay every one of our conversations.
Trying to see where it went wrong.
Trying to figure out where the laughs and the “how are you”s and the “oh my gosh I missed you”s
Turned into “I can’t stand this conversation.”
“Make her shut up.”
“I have to go.”
Where did that switch happen?
Even though you treat me like **** and looking back you always have.
Even though you took the person I was and you pushed her away.
And you pushed her inside a box and stuck her in some damp closet where I couldn’t reach her.
Even though you turned me into someone I wasn’t.
Someone I didn’t want to be.
I will always wish you a happy birthday.
Cause even though you used me so much,
Part of me still hopes you love me.
July 9, 1998