oh oh oh 20 in three days.

My birthdays have always been significant in terms of the evolution of my spirit, of my mind, of my ideas.
There was my eighteenth - when I thought life would be made clear to me, when I thought that I'd have everything figured out - because after all I was becoming an 'adult'- and instead I spent the day finding out that my 'best friend' was a traitor and that I was truly not an adult but a little kid all alone, having the worst day of my life.
For one year after that, life was miserable. Everyday that I spent at college, I hated everything about myself, about where I was, where I had come. Then, on my nineteenth birthday, after a small dinner with a few friends, my best friend staged an intervention and in that moment I realized that watching 'The Darjeeling Limited' an excessive number of times had paid off - it hit me like a ton of bricks- one whole year I had been in the depths of depression and then the night of my nineteenth birthday the words of Owen Wilsons mother came to me--- 'stop feeling bad for yourself, its not attractive.' And I haven't felt bad for myself since. I've been a trooper if I say so myself. I've learned to love solitude. I've become fiercely independent and self - reliant, so that if you asked to change anything, I'd say, 'No. Leave it the way it was. It taught me everything.'
And this friday I wonder what life will bring. I know its my birthday and I'm supposed to celebrate but all I want is to eat an exquisite dinner by myself with an exquisite book, go shopping, and watch a movie in theaters. Is that too much to ask? Is it too little?