Today is my birthday. I spent the weekend in Ras al Khaimah (I’ll write more about that later) with my boyfriend and another couple we’re friends with. There were highs and lows to the weekend, but overall I am very glad that we went. On the way home, my boyfriend made a comment about how we’d be back in Abu Dhabi in about 40 minutes, and suddenly I got very quiet and sad. After a few hours back in the city, I found myself watching The Bucket List and sending my boyfriend home so that I could cry alone. I wasn’t sad because of him or the movie, I was just sad about everything.
There’s a quote floating around that advises, “Instead of wondering when your next vacation is, maybe you should set up a life you don’t need to escape from.” But I hate that quote. I am so sick of the entitled idea that I have the power to create a magical life free of all unhappiness. The world still exists around me. And there are going to be times where things just suck. There will always be responsibilities. There will always be interactions with humans and drama. Life is never going to be all in order and nice and a constant vacation.
A birthday is a reminder of life. And life is sad sometimes. So it’s very normal for me to cry on my birthday. But that’s ok. It’s just how things are.