a pandemic birthday

I am now 35.⠀
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and I had a whole enchilada of reflection semi-penned, but the truth is that this moment and that cake with my friends and the sunny, sexy, salubrious weekend it capped off with my love were as close to perfection as I could hope for, and when the universe or a delectable gluten-free concoction decides to shine its light on you, you soak that shit up and tuck it somewhere in your soul so that you might revisit it when you need a jolt of gratitude, or a little mercy.

the beauty of a birthday with no expectations – which I’m learning is the only way to exist right now – is that it stands to surprise you in quietly stunning ways. the beauty of a community that shows up, with fizzy wines and easy laughter, even when it’s past their daughter’s bedtime or they’re hurting and the world is very closed, is in the reviving reminder that they’ll show up for you forever.⠀
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I am now 35, and nothing is as it seems, except this.