30 is a milestone or so I’ve always been told. Not by anyone around me but by the world. I have absolutely no desire to move into the three-zero decade, as a woman whose always shrugged uncomfortably on her birthday, I am especially dreading this one.
I always feel inexplicably sad when it’s my birthday. I’m never one to make a big fuss. I hate that big birthday fuss. It irritates me. It makes me want to cry. And I do. I always cry on my birthday.