By daily 
Today is my birthday. It should be a day filled with joy, celebration, and maybe a slice of cake or two. But as the hours tick by, I feel a weight settling in my chest. My phone has been oddly quiet, no notifications, no calls, no texts. I keep glancing at it, hoping for the screen to light up with a familiar name or a simple message: “Happy Birthday!” But it stays still, as if unaware of the significance of the day.
I tell myself it’s no big deal. People are busy, life gets in the way. But the silence feels louder with each passing minute. It’s not about the gifts or parties—it’s the thought, the little acknowledgment that today is different, that today I am different. Yet no one seems to notice.
By lunchtime, the pit in my stomach has grown. I try to distract myself, scrolling through social media or watching a show, but it’s hard to ignore the creeping sadness. I didn’t expect much, just a message, a kind word from a friend or family member. As evening approaches, the weight of it all hits harder than I expected. How could everyone forget?
But then, just as the sun starts to dip below the horizon, my phone buzzes. A small vibration, almost imperceptible.