happy birthday to me, i guess

i’ve never celebrated, it doesn’t fit my parents faith, and maybe that’s why it feels so odd to have it recognized

8 days ago i turned 17 and it was terrifying

to know i will never be 16 again

to know i have one year left as a child

to know soon i will have no choice but to make my position on religion clear to my parents, or else live a lie until the day i die

i have often written about love and freedom

it’s a recurring theme, don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.

i write those things because they are what i want:

to love and be loved unconditionally, not only if i conform to the standards set before me

to be free, to be myself, not some doll my parents display on a shelf

i know i won’t be here forever

the future scares me because i can’t imagine it

i’ve never been able to

i know it will break my mother’s heart

I know it will harden my father’s

i know it will betray my sister

and leave my brother confused and upset

i know i will leave my first true love behind

but it’s okay since it was never requited

(or at least i tell myself that in hopes it will come true)

i know i will never talk to my best friend again

but i have to hope she will lean on my love for support

they met through me, and i pray to any gods watching that they rediscover that bond for their own sakes

i started this with a goal in mind, and i seem to have strayed from that, but oh well.

if you’ve read my pointless little ramble, thank you.

if you know how this feels, i’m sorry.