A Birthday I’ll Never Forget

It was a lazy Sunday morning, but unlike me, she woke up early that day. Even on her working Sunday, she was filled with enthusiasm. She gently rolled her fingers over my forehead, whispered my name, and with a soft smile said, “Good morning, baby.” Her fingers slid into my hair as she urged me to wake up for breakfast. That simple moment—her warmth, her voice, her touch—was enough to set the tone for a perfect day.

I finally got up, pulled out my bike keys, and drove her to Minerva for breakfast before dropping her at her office. The day might have started slow, but the coffee, food, and her laughter brought life into it. She was in a playful mood, cracking jokes, and hearing her laugh filled me with joy.

The dress she Choose

By noon, I had plans to attend an open mic show. I sent her a couple of outfit options, and as always, she chose the maroon T-shirt for me. I trusted her choice, wore it, and felt confident. The show went well, and I was happy. But as evening approached, around 6:30, I was supposed to pick her up—yet I couldn’t. I met my friends after a long time, and amidst heavy rain, she got stuck at the office. After many failed attempts, I finally managed to book her a cab.

When she reached, I was waiting eagerly. I hadn’t seen her all day, and I longed to hold her, kiss her, and wrap her in my arms. But when she arrived, she was unwell—breathless, nauseous, and weak. I immediately took care of her, held her close, and ensured she was okay. Even in that condition, her heart was thinking about me, about making my birthday special the next day. That selflessness… it moved me.

She recovered, dressed up in the outfit I had bought for her, and we went out for dinner at Flying Spaghetti Monster. We had a wonderful time, and I thought the night was done—but she had more surprises planned. She directed me somewhere without telling me the destination. Finally, we stopped at a florist shop. She handed me a bouquet—thirty roses: red with four white ones. For the first time in my life, I received flowers from the woman I love. It was overwhelming. I couldn’t hold back my emotions.

The First Rose of my life.

We drove back home and reached around 11:15. She was determined to be the first to wish me. And when the clock struck midnight, she was indeed the very first. That night, we spoke from the depths of our hearts—open, raw, and fearless. I confessed things I had never said aloud. I lost all my doubts, all my fears, all my anxieties. In that moment, I knew—she is the one.

The next morning, we woke up late, still wrapped in each other’s warmth. She kept wishing me all through the day, never letting the celebration fade. We visited the temple together, unknowingly offering our prayers as one. It felt like the universe itself was blessing us.

The emotional ME!

For lunch, she suggested Kake Di Hatti—a Punjabi restaurant. I had never been there, but her excitement was enough to convince me. The moment we entered, a song started playing, and I froze. My heartbeat stopped. Tears rolled down my eyes—not from sadness, but because it felt like my prayers were being answered right there. She understood, she felt it too.

Later, we met her friend spontaneously, grabbed roasted corn, and ended up making another last-minute plan—watching Demon Slayer. She was overjoyed, like a child, and her excitement became mine. Even though I was tired, I promised her we wouldn’t miss a single trailer, and we didn’t. We carried blankets to make it cozy, laughed, and shared the moment like it was just ours.

The clock struck twelve once more. Just as she was the first to wish me, she was also the last. She had made sure this birthday wasn’t just special for me—it was magical for both of us.

XIIIX

That day wasn’t just about celebrations. It was about love, care, surprises, and moments that stitched themselves into my heart forever. It was the kind of day where I realized—this wasn’t just my birthday. It was the day life itself gifted me her.

Thanks again for making the day special........