At the end of February

That means I’m another year older. A great many thank you to friends who texted, posted, reblogged, and private-messaged me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! ❤

If you are not one of those people, do not fret. 90% chances are, you didn’t know. I somewhat made sure of that. As social media and various applications become more sophisticated, there are a lot of things we can share with our friends, acquaintances, and the network goes on. Birthdays, addresses, phone numbers, locations, email address, likes, dislikes, you name it, it’s got a nice little space for it.

I know I’m not a memorable person. I was never popular. I’m difficult to like, mostly because I’m difficult to get close to and actually keep tabs on a regular basis. I’m an introvert. That’s part of my genetic DNA.

In 2015, on my birthday in February, I received a total of about 16 messages online between Facebook and various other places I actually had my birthday listed all wishing me a Happy Birthday. The birthday wishes in and of itself isn’t a bad thing. Unfortunately, out of the 16 birthday messages, only about 4 people were my “actual friends” who remembered that it was my birthday and not because an app reminded them.

I didn’t have a single problem replying an ecstatic “THANK YOU! ❤ ❤ ” in return for those, but the remaining 12 broiled me in ire and turned my guts with disgust. I was never one for volume, and I hardly considered most of these people as a friend. We knew of each other because we attended the same school. That’s it.

I stripped my birthday from the internet and have since passed my birthday last year and this year in peace and quiet with my favorite people and activities I enjoy (and not ever returning to messages I feel obligated to reply to instead of inspired to reply to).

If you’re reading this and feel awkward, upset, or otherwise unhappy that you missed the opportunity to wish me a “happy birthday” because you didn’t know when it was, feel free to private message me anywhere or even send me an email. Honest to god, it’s a birthday… Not that special.

But here’s something interesting.

I have a classmate from high school who share the same birthday as me. Not only that, we are both Taiwanese. He’s from the north of the island, and I’m from the south. We came together as classmates in Southeast Asia of all places.

One of the things I like to say to him on his birthday (and mine) is: Another year wiser. Happy Birthday!

Personally, I don’t feel very wise. I actually feel more like a clog in a machine at the moment. Like millions of people around the world, last year had been difficult for this family. We, unlike many working class folk, are a single-income family – traditionally what it was like back in the 70s and 80s, but considered a rare species from the 1990s onward. Therefore, even the slightest change in groceries and property tax costs quickly becomes a staggering issue when it came to family finances. We have debt that seems never ending.

But we keep striving.

I hope January and February – barring politics – have been fruitful and filled with good tidings for all of you. While we don’t know if Lady Winter and Lady Spring are having a duel over here in the northeast part of the United States, I wish you all good health and safety in the middle of strange weather that has brought about a lot of storms.

With much love, Wynter. ❤


2 thoughts on “At the end of February

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