Trust, Birthdays, and the Weight of a Heavy Month

A lot of hell happened this month—and the month isn’t even over yet. I’ve been sitting with this question, circling in my mind like a slow-burning fire: Should I even say happy birthday to them?

There are two people with birthdays tomorrow. Two people I’ve known, shared space with, even shared pieces of myself with. And yet... I’m hesitant. I keep asking myself: Do they deserve that text? That kindness? That attention?

It’s hard to say “Happy Birthday” when your spirit feels unseen by them.

Wrestling With Boundaries and Trust

They’re nice people, sure. But being nice isn’t the same as having my best interest at heart. It’s deeper than kindness. It’s about energy. About not giving your power away to people who didn’t earn it—or worse, who mishandled it.

I learned that the hard way. I forgot to say happy birthday to someone I considered a close friend. And now we’re not even close anymore. Maybe that was the trigger. Maybe forgetting marked the end of something I didn’t want to admit was already falling apart.

So now I hesitate. I hesitate to show up for people who might not show up for me. Because I’ve done that too many times.

The Cost of Giving Too Much

I gave money to someone who’s not even a friend. I let people look through my prized possessions like they meant nothing. I gave too much, again. And the worst part? I felt empty afterward. Like I just gave pieces of myself to people who weren’t even equipped to hold them.

And here’s the kicker: the world doesn’t care. It keeps spinning, faster and faster, and no one is coming to save me. That realization? It’s cold. But it’s also freeing. Because if no one’s coming, then everything I build—I build myself.

Praying for One or Two Good Ones

Still, I pray. I pray for just one or maybe two people I can trust. People I can truly tell everything to. People who’ll open up to me the same way. Who won’t twist my words. Who’ll keep my secrets. Who’ll tell me the truth, even when it’s hard.

But trust issues? Yeah, I have them. They don’t just go away. They sit with you, even when you're trying to be better.

Music Is My Outlet, But Even That’s Slipping

I haven’t had time to really make music lately. Lyrics? I’ve got those. I’ve scribbled a lot down. But I haven’t laid down any songs. And that’s killing me inside. Because music is how I breathe. It’s how I survive.

Still, I’ve made a new plan: two albums.

At first, I thought I could fit it all into one. But now I see some songs don’t belong together. They need their own space. Their own themes. Their own emotional weight. So yeah, I’m splitting it.

Final Thoughts

This month has been brutal. Messy. Confusing. But also clarifying. Because the chaos has shown me what I really need: boundaries, music, peace, and people who actually see me.

So maybe I’ll say happy birthday. Maybe I won’t. Either way, I’ll keep it pushing. Because I’ve got too much on the line to waste more time wondering who’s worth my energy.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.