It’s my birthday tomorrow. I turn 24.
There’s nothing remarkable about that really. I can’t say whether it’s me or the Swede in me that feels a little disgusted at drawing attention to it. We jokingly say about Swedes that that they’re modest to a fault, and that to stick out and draw too much attention to yourself is wrong.
That may be.
In any case, pointing out that it’s my birthday, holding a celebration, even writing this blog post; is it self-absorbed of me? Or simply human? I’m not really sure. The truth is that I look forward to it. I get to spend it with my family, and with my brother, whom I haven’t celebrated a birthday with in a few years; something that always feels wrong to a soul as sentimental as mine. I’m not sure about my brother, he doesn’t articulate things like that. I look forward to celebrating with my friends, especially those I don’t see very often.
Most of all, I think it’s that very basic human need of being remembered that having a birthday satisfies. “We love, to learn we are not alone.” as CS Lewis wrote.