The Ex who had found God was dating me at the time. We'd been dating for over a year. My birthday fell on a weekday and as norm we (meaning me) planned to celebrate it on that weekend. It was a small affair; dinner with friends and dancing later.
He forgot that it was my birthday on my birthday. I went the whole morning waiting for him to say something; finally I got the nerve to call him up at his job, before I went to class and tell him what day it was.
He tried to make up for it with a bunch of roses later in the day. Roses, people, roses. Let's not get me started on that.
I was mad. I got over it. Oh, well.
This particular year, my birthday was on a Friday. I planned a huge dinner party that Saturday night with friends. I cooked everything. The theme was Dinner at Tiffany's; to mock Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Not only did the Ex forget it was birthday; he completely forgot the party that I slaved away for days was happening. Believe me; all this was happening while he would be staying over at my place watching me plan the party. He tried to make up for it by being my right hand man (slave) during the party.
I was pissed. I got over it. Oh, well.
This was my first year in Dallas. My birthday was on a Saturday. Me and the Ex were not exactly together-together; but we were still close as could be for long distance. Did he call? Did he write? Did he send an e-Card?
What do you think?
I waited one day, for when I was shopping in the Galleria with my friends (who traveled to celebrate with me) to tell him what day had passed.
You'd think after three years, I'd learn my lesson. Ex cannot write a freaking date down on a calendar nor remember one. You'd think he'd learn a lesson, too.
I was defeated. I got over it. Oh, well.
New boyfriend. Same deal...almost.
I planned a party for the weekend following my birthday. My birthday was on a Monday. The party was a cowboy theme party; we ate dinner at Texas Land & Cattle, afterwards headed over to Gilley's for some F-U-N.
The actual day of my birthday, there was no word from Incredible.
To be fair, I'll let you in on his excuse. He was on the road coming back from the Big 12 Championship game. The road trip had been planned since before he and I met. The only thing on his mind that Monday was how to get tickets to the National championship game at the Orange Bowl.
Was it excused? No. We live in a day and age where cell phones exist. Anyway, when he made it back to town (so tired from his trip) there was no celebration or gift from him to me. NONE.
He paid for my dinner at Texas Land & Cattle.
I was hurt. I got over it. Oh, well.
Present day. Are you ready for this? Really ready?
Incredible spent the night at my house last night. He spoke to my mom, then she spoke to me and we obviously were discussing my birthday. Obviously. And he was sitting next to me, granted a football game was on television, but still...Because prior to that we both were at a happy hour--where one of my friends announced my birthday was tomorrow and Incredible heard him. He's not deaf. I know he heard him.
Incredible spends the night. Is it me or if you wake up next to a birthday girl, you should (SHOULD) say "Happy birthday". Shouldn't those be the first words out your mouth? And when you are leaving my apartment and you still have not said a word, and I tell you to have a good day, shouldn't you say it, then too?
Am I crazy?
I waited, and waited, and waited. My phone never rang. I purposely was late to work this morning, just in case, he wanted to remember and call my cell phone or my work and I would have a 'happy birthday' message on my voice mail waiting for me.
I'm sitting at work; my brother calls, my mom calls, eCards are flowing in like no one's business. Still no Incredible.
Then, I get an eCard from him.
I almost didn't open it because we all know of the return receipt on those things, don't we? But I did, hoping it would make up for something--like the lack of a phone call or saying it in person.
I don't know why I bothered. It was lame. Bev--your eCard kicked his eCard's ass. (Thank you so much) The card was cute--the message, oh God, the message:
That's it. Nothing more. I know it gets to the point and it is true.
But, come on--am I wrong to expect more in penmanship? My friends are saying more meaningful stuff to me and they don't sleep with me! Am I wrong to want to hear it from his lips and not read it on an eCard?
I know what you may be thinking---dinner may still be a possibility, a gift still may come, something better may come from him.
Sorry, my hope is down the drain. I'm not even answering my office phone any more today--so if you call my work number leave me a message, I'll call you back.
Can you blame me? My history of birthdays and boys just don't go together. At all.
Next year I swear I need to be single on this day. That way there is no one to blame, no one to hold high hopes for, no one to hold my breath in anticipation over.
Then, again, you may find me whining about how I wish I wasn't single on my birthday.
I'm upset. Not over it, yet. Oh, well.