On my 18th birthday, my boyfriend organized a surprise birthday party for me, and had all our friends (well, almost) in on it. Ever since my dad died, I decided no to celebrate my birthday. He knew that, but he wanted my birthday to be unforgetable. Who turns 18 twice, anyway? All I wanted for my birthday was that I would be so happy, I could cry. I hadn’t felt that in years.
He started saving up a month beforehand, skipping meals just so he had enough money for the whole event. It was very simple: my friends yelled “Surprise!”; I blew out a candle on a cake; the last part was my favorite though: they all disappeared for a split second when my boyfriend’s dad took a picture of me on a platform. Then our song played, and each friend of mine came back with one single rose each. My boyfriend was had the 18th rose, along with another bouquet of roses. Bonus: He sang for me. :)
He had given me my birthday wish, something that never happened to me. I was (finally) genuinely on my birthday. I love him because he felt that I was worth making happy. We’ve been together for almost two years, and he still makes me feel like there’s always a surprise party for me. I love him because he’s the reason I wake up with a smile every day.
by issabebe