While three of us rot away in the jungle,
I received a few birthday wishes via cards, texts, and phone calls and realized that they are all from faraway places and none of my close (geographically) friends (?) even remembered.
It’s hideous that I think of my birthday that important, but…
Though I am thankful for the few friends that I do have, I wonder:
What is wrong with me?
Do I stink that bad?
Am I so difficult to get along with that people care as long as they are some distance away?
It must have been very tough to be around me for as long as my husband had to.
Did I kill him?