It is my un-birthday today and I’ve been trying to wrap my head and heart around why I wanted an un-birthday. It wasn’t to close myself off to the world and it wasn’t to say “fuck you.” It was that I didn’t want to dilute the real caring with bullshit: those that care about the day more than they care about the man (thanks to my wife for giving me that phrasing).
The unintentional result is that the people that do care about the man – my wife, Restaurant Friends, my parents – respected the un-birthday, understood it and got the reasons. The only birthday wishes that were loud were the ones that didn’t matter, the ones that (for the most part) were about the day: family members, work, the text messages, the emails…
The ones that care about the man will be there tomorrow. The ones that care about the man will be in on the un-birthday inside joke. The ones that care about the man will support me in the days to come. The ones that care about the man, while quiet, were infinitely louder as a result. No cards, no candles, no cake, no cash = because these things don’t matter tomorrow, those that I have asked to suffer for me, those who are worth suffering for, those are the ones that care. I love them all for this.