There are only a few days a year that a woman wants to be treated special. She wants to be loved and shown in a variety of ways what those close to her really think about her.

Those are – Anniversary, Birthday and Christmas.

Yesterday was my birthday. I woke with anticipation of what he had in store for me this year. Last year was a tough year and I was told it would be much better this year.

The day came and went and the only thing he thought to give me was a card with a note in it. Granted, it was a very sweet note, but the card was one he already had in a drawer. It wasn’t even something new and picked out uniquely for me.

Today I thought maybe he would stop on his way home from work – maybe he would run out on his lunch break – maybe he would send me flowers – maybe, he would whisk me away for dinner.

None. Of. The. Above.

Granted we did get some disappointing news. News that something he was looking very forward to wasn’t going to happen.

It just seems like everything is all about him. Always.

Just once I’d like to feel important. Special. Loved.

But then if I felt that once – it might be addicting, wouldn’t it?

So happy fucking birthday to me – just another day on the calendar.

Thankfully I have good friends and family who made the day a little brighter because the man who says he loves me sure the hell didn’t.