A Piece of Me (Tracob)

The state of being in love

It's my birthday. I'm 26 years old as of today. Birthdays are that one day where, as a kid, it's all you look forwards to.

And yet right now, all I can feel is... slightly disappointed.

I mean, it was good, it was a fine day. Fun, even. I drove down by myself to my mom's house, and spent time with her and my sister and her husband and two sons. I hadn't seen any of them in forever, I needed it, it was cathartic to have people to talk to, people who know me maybe better than I know myself. Mostly we talked for ages and ages, but my mother surprised me with a cake and we played little card games that Colton could participate in. The cake and card games were mostly for his entertainment, if we're being honest.

It was a good day...but as I'm sitting in the car driving back home towards Troye, all I can think is...I'm lying to myself if I say I didn't have false dreams for this day.

I don't know what I expected. Troye waking me up and exclaiming that he suddenly remembers everything, completely miraculously. Some magical fairytale birthday kiss, maybe.

But the reality is, he doesn't even know it's my birthday. And I'm sure not going to tell him, just to make him feel like he has to do something. He just thinks it's any old day, and I went to go see my family.

And I keep telling myself it's okay, that's okay. Birthdays are nothing anyways.

But it doesn't feel okay.

When I get home, the house is bathed in darkness, save for a candle on the kitchen island, a lamp in the living room and the string of fairy lights that hang on the porch and light up the attached rooms with a soft glow. I get that familiar edge of anxiety at all the dark silence of the house, until my eyes find Troye curled in an armchair with Nash reading a cookbook, of all things.

I swear, he is so odd.

He glances up when I enter the room, and I wonder if I'm just imagining it, or if his eyes lit up a little bit when he saw me. "Hey, how was it?"

"It was good, really good. I had a nice time. Just legitimately relaxed for the first time in...a long time."

Troye closes his cookbook. "That's really good, I'm glad."

"Yeah, me too," I tell him, almost surprised. It was Troye insisting I go that actually spurred me, but now that I went, I really am glad for it. It made my birthday something more than just me waiting around for Troye to do something that's never going to happen, and moping.

"I told you you should."

"I stand down, you were right after all. Who would have thought?"

Troye shakes his head and grins, his smile lighting up the room more than the little lamp itself. "You're full of it."

"What can I say? I'm special." I sit down on the couch adjacent to Troye and lean back. There's a speaker somewhere playing soft music, and it gives the whole lower house a layer of light ambiance.

If I closed my eyes, I could probably imagine, just for a second, that things were how they used to be.

It's just quiet between us for awhile, only broken by the low music and Nash sighing heavily as he does sometimes.

After a minute or two, I stand up and walk to the mantel, lighting a couple of the candles that line it, for no reason other than I like the way they look.

It's my birthday, I can do whatever I want.

I've just set down the lighter, when I feel a butterfly soft touch on my elbow, making me turn. Troye stands behind me, tugging on the cuffs of his sleeve, looking up at me with those doe eyes.