And i feel old. Not in age, but in the sense that I’m done with birthdays. They’re hard to plan, none of my friends can ever make it, my parents don’t like letting me even invite them because it’s “selfish”, my family doesn’t get along so they don’t come either, and everyone forgets. The past couple of years I’ve ended up crying because my birthday is always about everyone else- or no one at all, including me.

2 weeks ago, I asked to invite my friends over to camp in the woods. My mom screamed that I have a problem so I can’t have friends(over/at all) until I solve it. Don’t know what my problem is. But it’s something to do with having queer friends. She pretended my birthday wasn’t coming until yesterday when she scolded me for not solving my elusive “problem” and therefore delaying my party, decided I dislike her because I want a moss cake (google them, they’re gorgeous), and got upset I hadn’t written a list of gifts/food I want for the birthday I didn’t know I was still having.

I’ve heard this is what adult parties feel like, especially the older you get, so I’m not really looking forward to having more...