happy birthday

At midnight, the first of the greeters begin to post messages on my wall. The HBDs from grade school classmates and internet acquaintances are empty but they come with good intentions. So while I tell myself every year that I’ll take my birthday off Facebook, in a weird way, I like the comfort these greetings bring. My sister sends me a voice message saying it isn’t my birthday yet in her time but she wanted to be the first to wish me a happy birthday. I send her a quick thank you and check my messages before turning in for the night.

It's not that I need him to greet me – after all, it’s not like we’re official or anything. I remind myself that I’m not like other boys. I’m cool. I don’t need a label. But what I could use was a birthday greeting from the boy I’ve been seeing. It was a small thing but I’d like to think he would be happy that I was born on this day many moons ago. A gentle stirring wakes me at 3AM. More greetings filter in, some from people I only ever speak to on birthdays and holidays. Still nothing from the boy.

I awake a few minutes before my alarm and for a second, it felt like any other day. Until my phone beeps, perhaps I can pretend that today isn’t special. It’s just a regular day, just another 24 hours in the dizzying tapestry that is time. I check my messages and my mom has left me a rather sweet video message. She tells me she’s proud of me and in the background, I hear my father asking me if I have anything special planned. I send them a quick thank you and get ready for the day. It’s almost 9 and still nothing from the boy.

At work, people are extra nice to me. There’s a card on my desk which everyone’s signed. My teammates pitched in on a nice cake. They sing me a song and we have coffee with our cake over first break. A report was due but my boss said I could take it easy. I turn it in after lunch and she thanks me – rather earnestly. She says happy birthday, and out of habit, I say you too. We burst into laughter. I know it’s supposed to be just a regular day but it felt nice to be treated special. 

At the end of the work day, a few people invited me for drinks. We go to the bar down the street. The bartender gives me an extra shot, winks, as he says happy birthday. You don’t look a day over 26, he tells me and it may have been the alcohol but I think I blushed. The band invites people to sing with them and I croak out an off-key Time After Time. My friends cheer like Simon Cowell just hit the golden buzzer. The singer shakes my hand as I leave and I slip him a crispy Ninoy. He mouths happy birthday and continues with his set.

Back at our table, the day begins to wind down. I check my messages. Friends from school, church, and previous workplaces all come out of the woodwork to wish me a happy birthday. Still nothing from the boy. A co-worker asks why I looked glum and I tell her I’m just tired. I stumble back to the bartender to pay the tab and he says it’s been settled. I glance back at the table, my boss raises her glass and smiles and I say thank you out loud even though she was too far to hear me. I say my goodbyes and hail the first cab I see. It starts to drizzle like it does in August and I’m happy to be safe and dry in this car.

The cabbie tells me it looks like I had fun, perhaps he can smell the booze on me. I tell him it’s my birthday and he stops the car, looks behind to see me, and says it was his birthday too. I laugh, a little too forcibly, and say what are the odds that we’d find each other tonight? He pulls up to my building. I had him a bill and tell him to keep the change. He thanks me, wishes us a happy birthday, and drives away.

The drizzling has stopped and I should be happy but if I can be honest, I’m feeling a little blue. I check my phone and the greetings have begun to peter out. I scroll to the boy’s profile and hit message. Still nothing from the boy.

As I got ready for bed, I realized that he didn’t owe me a greeting. He didn’t really owe me anything. Maybe he forgot, or maybe he was busy. I guess I just thought it would have been nice to hear from him today. But I shouldn’t feel bad that he didn’t greet me. We were, after all, just friends who occasionally spend the night together. It’s not like we’re married or anything. I check my phone one last time. Still nothing from the boy. I turn out the lights, hop into bed, and try to forget my forgetful boy when I hear what sounds like rocks tapping on my window.

Sleep in my eyes, I lift the window and see him on my street. He has a paper bag and a guitar with him and he beckons me to come down. I check the time – it’s a quarter to midnight. I put on a shirt and run downstairs.

We walk to the park across my apartment and he sets down a thick blanket. He brings out the guitar and starts tuning it for show. I ask him what was happening. He puts a finger on my mouth to shush me and starts singing a slow Happy Birthday. He takes out a cupcake and plops a comically large candle in the middle. He fishes out a lighter from his coat pocket, lights the candle and tells me to make a wish. I close my eyes and blow the candle out.

I tell him he had me worried for a second and he says how could he forget a special day like today. 

So why didn’t you greet me like a normal person, I ask him.

I didn’t want to be the first, he tells me. I wanted to be the last. Happy birthday, my love.

I set the cupcake down, the icing getting on my thigh. His face moves towards mine and the entire park begins to blur away. He kisses me and it’s stupid, I know, but it feels like all is right in the world again. What a happy birthday indeed.

♫: Billie Eilish | Getting Older (2021)