Yup. Today. On the fifth. I have thirty-six candles to blow out. And even though it’s the thirty-freakin-six – the spirit for the celebration is still the same: like a 12 year old girl’s. I’ve always been a part of the birthday fan club. As long as I remember, I’ve anxiously waited for this day – My Day. I know it may sound childish, and maybe it is, but the eternal wish I’ve persisted each year – on this usually chilly day at the beginning of February – is to preserve this spirit, this need for cuddles, parties, kisses and lovely thoughts.
To the ones who were there when I couldn’t come up to edge of the table and are now with me; to the ones who will always be stay by my side; to the ones who haven’t shared the last nine birthdays with me (but it doesn’t matter – we are close to each other anyway); to the ones who have become a part of my life and not just on this day; to the ones who have never forgotten me at midnights; to the latecomers and to you all:Thank You.