The Utter Humiliation of Writing a Birthday Wish on a Card I Bought for Myself

Dear Delyara, My birthday is tomorrow. I stood in the card aisle of the supermarket for fifteen minutes today, surrounded by people picking out bright, celebratory cards for their loved ones. I ended up buying a plain card with a small illustration of a solitary boat on the water. I brought it home, sat at my kitchen table, and wrote: "Happy Birthday. You made it through another year. Keep going." I sealed it in the envelope and stood it up on the shelf. It feels deeply pathetic to admit this, but the thought of an entirely empty mantelpiece on my birthday felt worse than the shame of buying my own card. I am surrounded by hundreds of superficial connections, yet I am completely invisible when the sun goes down.