Birthday Silence

Birthdays feel like the heaviest day,
Not sad exactly, just pushing me away.
The wishes feel loud, too close, too near,
And thanking them back feels forced and unclear.

I never knew why it felt so wrong,
Why simple wishes didn’t feel strong.
Smiles come out, but they don’t feel true,
And every “thank you” feels borrowed and due.

I stopped wanting cakes, stopped wanting the scene,
No dinners, no plans, no in-between routine.
I like the gifts, but I hate the act,
Faking surprise feels quietly cracked.

Maybe this is growing, learning to bend,
Letting old versions of joy quietly end.
But I still sit with this thought every day-
Is this maturity, or am I losing my way?