The week ahead

by jemfinch

And the many years to come.


On Thursday, I am going to turn seventeen.

I really, really think my 17th birthday is very special. (Even more so than my 18th.) I really want it to be.

And that’s why I am planning my week. What to do (that is, watch Les Misérables!), what to eat (that is, almost anything).

I dunno how I feel though. I’m not sure if I’m excited.
I’d like to be.

But planning these things alone,
planning to go to the movies and planning to have a costly, yummy birthday lunch alone can suck the excitement out of it all.

And then there’s the maybe’s and the if’s
and the nevermind’s.

Maybe Thursday won’t be so bad. Maybe watching a movie alone won’t be so bad. It’s Les Misérables after all. Maybe lunch by myself would be nice considering the suffocating days I’ve had lately.

If I was home, I’d be sure to have a splendid time. My family will make sure I have the best day and I won’t have to think twice about asking my friends to join me for lunch. If they haven’t set a lunch date already.

And there’s really not much I can do so nevermind.
I think I have been so much better at sucking it up recently. And so that, I shall do.

But it’s still quite sad.

I want chocolates and potatoes and cheese and flowers and hugs and kisses and my family and friends on my birthday.
My 17th birthday which will only come once in forever.


And gosh. If I’m a mess right now, I can’t imagine how the heck I’m going to make it through Thursday.
And I thought this year was going to be better.


I really hope I’m wrong.