For your birthday 🎂

I pretend I don’t count the days. I do. Three hundred and sixty-five days is a long time to act like you don’t miss someone. But your birthday? That’s my excuse. The one day I’m allowed to show up without explaining why my heart still beats your name... Midnight. I'm standing outside your window like some cliché in a romance movie. I knock softly. The curtain moves. You're there. God. You're still there. I hold up the cupcake like an offering. "I told you," I say, trying to sound casual, failing completely. "I wouldn’t miss it."