It kinda feels that way.


I had a cake today. That was all I wanted actually for my birthday. I wanted someone to just be there, and sincerely plan something for me - to just, without asking or hinting or feeling obligated, do something for me. Share this day with me. And I was just touched that my aunts came over and did it. The sweetest thing though was my brother. He wasn't there, or didn't do anything elaborate. Heck, i don't think he's even wished my happy birthday yet. But he remembered what my favourite cake was. That one cake.. It's way more than just cake.

That cake, holds a lot of memories. A hell lot. The good, painful memories of days which were way better than they are today. Everytime I look at that cake, I get blasted through time, back at my dad's birthday years ago, my brothers, my mom, or mine. That cake, is hope, for me. Hope for things which are pure, unadulterated goodness. It reminds me of what once was.

You might not get it, cos to you, it's just a piece of cake. back to top?