Critical Perplexity
I will admit, I was a little bit scared.
When Reina died, I was sad for a number of reasons. One of them, easily and ashamedly the most selfish, was that I worried I would be right back to square one when it came to people actually remembering my birthday. For years, she was the only one among my acquaintances that, with whatever method, kept track of the date - no, better still, she remembered that it actually was important to me.
I don't care about presents, I don't really care about getting a lot of attention, and I hope history never remembers me with such inaccuracies. I've reasoned this out in my head before, and the real reason why I love it when people remember my birthday is because it shows me that they care enough about me to remember some milestone in my life. I feel like it's similar to a couple remembering their anniversary, or Valentine's Day - people who care don't (or shouldn't) do it just because of some invented significance, they do it because they want to say 'hey, you're important to me', and so you take notice of certain things.
To the opposite end, if people don't take notice of such certain things on a regular basis, it becomes increasingly hard to discern their affections. Do they really care? If they're just floating along, it must not be such a big deal.
I think it's crucial to show your friends that you're interested in them. Because of that ingrained instinct, I feel confused when that isn't shared - when all that happens is my probes into their lives get answered, but none get sent in return.
I'm indescribably grateful to the people in my life who do probe me (pfft). A few people were nice enough to wish me well the other day, and it was great. With that network of support, however large or small, I don't have to feel scared about such details.
When Reina died, I was sad for a number of reasons. One of them, easily and ashamedly the most selfish, was that I worried I would be right back to square one when it came to people actually remembering my birthday. For years, she was the only one among my acquaintances that, with whatever method, kept track of the date - no, better still, she remembered that it actually was important to me.
I don't care about presents, I don't really care about getting a lot of attention, and I hope history never remembers me with such inaccuracies. I've reasoned this out in my head before, and the real reason why I love it when people remember my birthday is because it shows me that they care enough about me to remember some milestone in my life. I feel like it's similar to a couple remembering their anniversary, or Valentine's Day - people who care don't (or shouldn't) do it just because of some invented significance, they do it because they want to say 'hey, you're important to me', and so you take notice of certain things.
To the opposite end, if people don't take notice of such certain things on a regular basis, it becomes increasingly hard to discern their affections. Do they really care? If they're just floating along, it must not be such a big deal.
I think it's crucial to show your friends that you're interested in them. Because of that ingrained instinct, I feel confused when that isn't shared - when all that happens is my probes into their lives get answered, but none get sent in return.
I'm indescribably grateful to the people in my life who do probe me (pfft). A few people were nice enough to wish me well the other day, and it was great. With that network of support, however large or small, I don't have to feel scared about such details.