21 candles

21 Candles

A friend's birthday is supposed to be all about him. It was his special day, and somehow, it turned into my defining moment. I don't know why I woke up with such a purpose. Maybe it was the half-way point of summer and wondering what I did with all of the May and June sunshine.
I woke up that morning and decided I didn't need you. You left me and I did not need you. There were tear-stained pillows tucked under me, and I still did not need you.
What was it about this day that made me know it would be different? Bar crawls at the age of 21 and three months are nothing new. Dressing up for nothing in particular in a Midwestern haven for hipsters and townies is definitely something I've done before.
But I decided whatever I did on that day was for me. It was his birthday, but it was my special day to be something bigger than worries.
I went bar to bar for his celebration, and I just didn't feel anything. I'm pretty sure I kissed a few strangers, but a friend told me that kisses were the new handshake.
I knew little of my friend's life before me, but the people at the wooden table could tell me a few stories. They knew him better than I did, and it made me want to know them. Because I loved him. And he loved them.
His friends were joyful, and with the summer I was having, I figured they might be the sunshine I needed.
One girl caught my eye, and I mourned her sexuality out loud before I even asked. I guess a few bad months taught me to expect disappointment.
The drunkenness, the boldness, and the laughter that ensued from my sarcastic assumption changed my summer.
As I helped carry him home, I was so glad he was born. I knew I'd fall in love with him and that our friendship would last forever. His friend was pretty, but on the drunk walk home, she wasn't all I remembered.
I remembered how I felt when you wouldn't take me back. And the despair that existed when young love was not infinite love.
Somehow, bar crawling that July...buying a birthday beer...and getting a pretty girl's phone number meant my tears would stop pouring.
Maybe it was his birthday.
But it was my re-birth.