March 26. 19. 2017.

March 26. 19. 2017.

– writing this ahead of time –

I wonder if my phone will explode with messages and calls. I wonder if people will be kinder and try to make me smile more. I wonder what will happen during the next couple days at school when I see my classmates and friends.

I wonder if my parents will remember. I wonder if my sister will call home from London. I wonder if we’ll celebrate somehow. I wonder if it’ll just be one of those rare dinners that we have (like steak or hotpot) whenever we “celebrate”. I wonder if we’ll go out to head a some sushi buffet because we’re lazy to cook and make it big.

I wonder if my aunts will remember. I probably won’t hear from my aunts or uncles. I’ve never been close to family.

I wonder if I’ll be buried in schoolwork. I wonder how that’s going to go. I wonder if I’ll even remember. I won’t if I’ll have any time for myself and just be grateful I survived yet another year of life.

March 26. I turn 19. Almost 20.

March 26. Last year was hell. Too much drama with friends.

March 26. It’s a week or so away. I wonder what will happen.

I don’t celebrate. We usually don’t do anything. Family doesn’t do the whole gift thing, the whole taking time to see what they would really want or what would be super meaningful. We don’t do that. Family doesn’t do that.

Awell.

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