In two days I will be 45. I met you when I was 23. When you put time in perspective like that, it kind of fucks with you. Twenty-two years doesn't seem all that expansive, but where we were and who we've become, that journey is more significant.

I think we were at Denny's or some place we used to go to together before we actually started seeing each other. You and I had the common bond of needing junk food sustenance and it was a good excuse to see each other. I think our diet back then consisted of french fries and breakfasts. It had become such a regular routine. You'd go to class, you'd come home, and I would wait by the phone until you were hungry. And you were always hungry. It was a few weeks before your 21st birthday and you were telling me how weird it was going to be to actually walk in a bar and drink legally. You didn't really drink much at that time because you didn't like to feel "out of control". Fair enough, but the myriad of blue drinks you had that night at Hole in the Wall left you on the floor in front of the bathrooms mumbling how drunk you were to me.

I had told you the story of my 21st birthday, how I was working at Cinema n' Drafthouse and we would go to Bennigan's after our shift and drink White Russians and do Lemon Drop shots (oh the 90s). I had done this for almost a year at 20 years old. I was never carded. Then, on my 21st birthday, I asked my co-workers and friends to meet me at Bennigans to celebrate, my asshole of a boyfriend in tow. The same waitress who had served me for the last year asked if she could see my ID. I smirked and said, "Uh yeah, but you've never asked before!" and reached into my purse pocket where no ID was found. I had left it at home for some unknown reason. She would not serve me. My boyfriend, however, continued to order his drink and enjoy it with the one coworker who showed up, none of the friends I invited were in attendance. So, there I sat, with a boyfriend I didn't want to be with anymore, one co-worker, and me glaring at the bitch who served me for the longest time, who decided she needed to see my ID that day. The worse birthday of my entire life, so I thought.

I remember your face. Your jaw kind of dropped and you were shaking your head and expressed how dumb that entire scenario was. I agreed and you looked me in the eye and declared, "Fuck that, you'll never have a bad birthday again, I promise," and in that moment, I wanted to grab and kiss you. I don't know how you would prevent such things, but I believed you. I assured you that your day would not be remotely as disappointing. We weren't even dating then, but you had this ability to make me feel important. You were protecting me even before we were involved and I liked it a lot. I felt like someone had my back for once.

February 17, 1997. Floyd Avenue apartment. You picked me up in your parent's car you had borrowed, that dark gray Ford Thunderbird that we would eventually inherit and I would eventually loathe parking, due to its size. You had on a dark gray suit and I asked where you were taking me and you said I wasn't allowed any questions. We slowly pulled up to The Jefferson Hotel and I then realized that we were going to dine at Lemaire. I'd never been there before and was thoroughly impressed, not to mention I thought, how the hell does he have the cash to take me here. I knew our friend Justin was the chef that evening and as my chair was pulled out inviting me to sit, I couldn't help but think how special I felt. I remember us laughing and having a great time over a nice bottle of red and looking over and seeing Tim Reed (Venus Flytrap from WKRP in Cincinnati).The Red Snapper that Justin cooked was one of the most delicious and memorable meals I've ever had and how honored I was that he was cooking for me that night. It was one of those magical nights...until we got back to my place.

"So, I have to go to band practice now," you said. "Oh, ok, well thanks for dinner, it was really nice," said I with a "trying to be understanding, but in disbelief" kind of tone. I mean we just had this amazing meal and it was my birthday and this dress and now he's leaving?! WTF, but ok. "I'll probably see you later for drinks." Probably?! With you, I was always on the edge of my seat because I never knew what was happening with us. One minute you'd be staring deeply into my eyes, cape flowing behind you, reassuring protection and lots of "POWS" and "BLAMS" in my honor and then the next, you'd leave my house on some secretive mission, not to be heard from for a whole day with some insane adventure you and John had gone on.

My thought process: Does he like me? Is he trying to be nice to me so I don't get hurt? What's the deal? He takes me to this amazing dinner and now he's ditching me, on my birthday?! Am I reading too much into his actions? How can I be so aloof when I have all these feelings! Asshole! Can't believe he's probably going to meet later for drinks. is he serious?

Kathy. My best friend. My awesome roommate at the time. "What are you doing?" I asked as she gives a little jump standing over one of my dresser drawers. I had just reached the top of the stairs. "Oh, shit girl, you scared the shit out of me! Uh, I was just looking for a shirt to borrow if that's ok?" she replied. "Yeah, you know you can borrow anything!" She grabbed a shirt from the top drawer of my dresser and hurriedly stepped into her bedroom. After asking me how dinner was with you and me giving her meticulous details, I had asked where she was going and she explained she had to meet a friend real quick and then she would come back to pick me up so we could go have celebratory drinks. Yeah, see that's what I wanted to hear! The door closed behind her and I decided to put on less formal attire and into the sexy night time, I'm turning 24 attire, which just meant a black velvet dress with a choker and some heels. I sat in our very tiny living room and flipped through the channels in wait. It was eerily quiet that night and although I was trying to distract myself with the television, I had a million thoughts on what tonight would entail.

We lived in a duplex and the entrance to our apartment was on the first floor. There were narrow steps leading to the main portion of the apartment and Kathy and I were so lucky to have found this place for $400 a month! Yeah, remember when The Fan was actually cheap to live in? I looked at the clock and it was near 8:30pm and Kathy was still not home. I sighed and waited for the phone to ring or for some sort of rushed return.

I had heard a noise downstairs and thought she had arrived. I then heard loud shuffling and voices, but no one had actually entered yet. I thought this was weird so I got up, I looked down from the top of the stairs when, the door came flying open and four men in black clothes and ski masks darted up the top of the stairs. If it weren't for the laughing and recognition of certain body types, I would have ran into the kitchen and out the back door screaming for my life. Instead, I laughed in confusion and was told to shut up. I had my arms and feet tied with rope, blindfolded and then picked up and flung over the shoulder of one of them. This could never happen now. Nobody would be able to fling me anywhere! Ah to be 102lbs again! I remained silent and laughing hysterically to myself because I had no idea what was happening, but I also knew I was with friends.

I was lightly thrown into the back end of the car and told to be quiet. I could feel the bumps and dips of potholes as the car maneuvered with lots of turns. I could hear gravel and the grit of dirt under the tires. We probably drove around for about half an hour until we stopped and I could hear the car doors echo as they closed. I deduced a parking enclosure, but still had no clue as to where I was. I was then picked up and flung back over someone's shoulder. I was laughing uncontrollably as I heard the hum of an elevator. As the doors opened and we went to the left, I kept trying to pull at the back of my very short dress down. No such luck. As we entered the place, my butt in the air, me begging to be put down because I was fully aware that my buttocks was now the centerpiece to whatever social scene that was about to be revealed, you gently inched me to the floor where my dress caught on your belt buckle and my black laced undies were in full display to an unrecognizable crowd standing before me. "Um," I said. "Happy Birthday," said some random guy. I looked at you and asked who were these people and you yelled, "Way to go with the surprise!" Apparently they were guests of the other hosts, the hosts which included former roommates and ex boyfriend. Since Kathy was now dating one of mentioned roommates it made sense you collaborated on this venue. I looked passed the unfamiliar group before me and saw Kathy, huge smile on her face, her statuesque figure heading towards me for a huge hug with birthday greetings.

That evening was full of surprises. I found out that Kathy was in my drawers to obtain my actual drawers. As I was sat in the middle of the room while Luther Campbell's, It's Your Birthday cranked, our friend Anthony entered the room in a sort of dance serenade which ended up being a strip tease. The sight of my quite muscular, Vietnamese friend, Anthony, wearing my red laced bra and my undies was a sight to see. We all laughed to the floor. That evening also included an encounter of a former roommate, whom I was not in good standing with. She apparently was now living down the hall and made her way to the party. She dragged on her Benson and Hedges as she proudly unveiled her pregnancy by the bouncer of the club we frequented. He was German and I was thinking, oh she'll finally have that German DNA she's always wanted. All this accompanied with some sort of apology for past behavior. What a night! Unforgettable. I remember you leaning down and whispering in my ear, "Pretty good birthday, huh? Get used to it." And I did.

Every year after that, you made sure to give me a birthday worth cherishing. You always surprised me, took me to incredible dinners, we traveled to different places, and made sure everyone I wanted to share my special day with, surrounded me. I, in turn, did the same. I loved planning your parties and getting everyone together. It was a tradition in our relationship that I think we both looked forward to. In the last couple of years, you started to get lazy, but you did your best mostly. Then came February 17th of 2010. It was the first birthday we would spend apart. I came home to flowers, a carnation sort of arrangement, and a card that said, "Happy Birthday".

Happy Birthday? WTF kind of sentiment is that? I get more out of the cats today. Carnations? His mother sent these, I can tell. Why is he not here today. Why would he not make the efforts to be here today of all days.

You said you had rehearsal or something and you'd be home for the weekend. I was disappointed. That was the 2nd worse birthday of my life. Little had I known that the year before would be the last birthday I would ever spend with you.

September 25, 2010. I wasn't going to let some dumb stroke prevent celebrating your 35th birthday. In traditional fashion, I conjured up plans to gather the old crew for a surprise shindig at your parent's house. You would be able to see everyone as always with cake and presents and celebratory toasts. I had arrived a little late with Susan and saw the cars lined up on the street. I thought relief that everyone showed and hadn't ditched in the last minute. I walked up the driveway, arm in arm with Sue and rang the bell. I still have a hard time with the bell. Not only was this our home for a time being, but I also freely walked in and out of their houses for the past 14 years. It's a strange feeling. As we were greeted at the door by your dad and with a welcoming "Come in, come in! We're all here!", we walked through the living room and as my sight went beyond the corner of the wall into the kitchen, there she sat next to your father. There you sat in your chair surrounded by our friends of 15+ years with a small kitten roaming your limp body. You were laughing while I was slowly dying on the inside.

What was she doing here? I didn't invite her. How does she have the balls! Oh and she brought him a kitten, of course she did. Look at her love for him. This is insane.

I could feel the hotness of my anger welling up inside me. Everyone with smiles on their faces, me with an absolute look of disgust. Susan knew it. She probably felt it too. "Come sit next to your husband," she cheerily directed me. I reluctantly sat to your right. If there's anything Sue is good at, it's mediating difficult situations. For an hour, I pretended this wasn't tearing my insides up. I pretended to ignore that poor excuse for a woman and all of our friends making small talk with her. I felt betrayed, a hot knife searing my heart. I could barely stand it, so I got up and went outside. I vented to Sue angrily and she consoled me the best she could and did what she always did, told me I didn't have to do anything I didn't feel like doing. I wanted to celebrate with you. I wanted to hold your hand as we opened gifts, but I could not. It was the last of many defeated moments that followed the stroke. I entered the house again and with defiant fervor, said, "I have to go." I never looked at her once. I never acknowledged her presence or smiled or coddled her. I just got up and left. That was the very last birthday of ours we ever celebrated together.

Current Moment. Every year we get each other gifts. This year, I tried to see you, but it's been 81 days, two texts, and three emails since I contacted your parents about a visit and still no response. I heard she was in town for it and that you were having a great time. I recalled that whisper on the night of my 24th birthday. I got used to it alright. I got used to the 13 birthdays that passed in such glorious achievement. There isn't a birthday since then I don't reminisce. On February 17, 2018, I'll be 45 years in existence and while others hate observing these milestones in their life, I in turn revel. I want to acknowledge that I'm here, that I have people in my life that I love and who will cross state lines for me, and that I can stand on two feet and belt out a song if I want. I thank the powers that be daily that you are alive; that you will be better. You and I are not done toasting each other, we never will be. You may not be making all the arrangements anymore, but when I'm dancing, I'm dancing for you, when I'm singing terribly into the mike, I'm singing for you, and when I'm hugging our friends from the past, I'm hugging them for you. One day, when I go to blow the candles out, I'll look at the crowd and I'll see you there---standing, hearing you sing me happy birthday, and once again, as you've done so many times before, surprising me.