So, the birthday month is here again. I have an inexplicable love-hate relationship with my birthday. While I love the fact that it gives me a legitimate reason to retrospect, the celebratory expectations annoy me to death.

Paradox, thou are personified by birthdays. While I LOVE attention and surprises, I hate it if they come from people I don’t want them to come from. I love to be left alone on my day. The desire to be left to my own means makes spending the day sleeping off in a silent corner of your room the bestest way to celebrate the day. I would kidnap and transport myself to a quaint bookshop that day, if I could.

How do you tell people to back off and give you your space, especially when they mean to make the day special for you? The best intentions of other people become no less than major irritants, and the day is ruined for all. This has become a yearly routine for me now. I sulk the most on the day I should ideally be the happiest on.

I want to be happy on my birthday. Not analytical. Not sulky. Not frustrated. Just happy. Is that too much to ask for? Guessed as much.