Here's how a perfect birthday is supposed to go:
You're supposed to come home to a boy rushing out to the driveway to greet you and walk you in, and it's supposed to be one who knows you well enough to read your moods. That way he can start immediately to talk down your raw emotions and get you pumped about the night ahead of you.
You're supposed to get two, perfect, presents. One to start the night off with, and one to end the night with.
Before you open the first, you're supposed to watch the boy down several of your birthday cupcakes and try incessantly to convince you how much your birthday benefits him just to make sure you don't give yourself an [even worse than you already have...] guilt trip.
You're supposed to be completely overwhelmed by how adorable the wrapping is on said gift before you even get to what is actually inside and you're supposed to start letting yourself believe that you may actually enjoy this birthday because you start to see the care the boy put into this [and how excited he is to finally share it with you].
Then you actually get to the gift. It's a pair of glasses and you're supposed to put them on and get a little giddy and butterflyish inside because the boy starts raving about how he loves seeing you in his glasses so much, he decided to get you some that you could actually see out of. Then his talk about how gorgeous he thinks you are and how much he loves them on you is supposed to make you blush and walk into your bathroom so you can see how you like them.
When you do so, you're supposed to see a dozen red roses in a gorgeous vase on your counter. This is supposed to get you flustered all over again and maybe this time you tear up a little bit. That's when the boy is supposed to make another cute make-you-feel-better comment about how he's loving this day and it distracts you enough that you quickly blink the tears away.
You're supposed to know of a little restaurant that has such a homey, downtown feel to it that it makes you think for just a little bit that you're on a vacation, all alone, except better because you get to go home afterwards. It's just you two, away from the world, and you finally get to just relax and be you.
You're both supposed to get really yummy sandwiches and you're supposed to try each others and it's supposed to be exactly what you were both picturing.
By the way, all through dinner the boy is supposed to talk about how much he loves being with you and how excited he is that he gets to celebrate you for the day.
When you're finished, you're supposed to just sit together for a while. You're supposed to talk about everything. It's supposed to be EXACTLY what you needed and you're supposed to leave almost fully convinced that birthdays aren't half as bad as you thought they were.
You're supposed to get home absolutely bursting with excitement ready to open your next gift. Then the boy is supposed to tell you that you have to wait until he finishes wrapping it. Meanwhile, you change into the new pajama pants that your sister is supposed to get you and she's supposed to be pretty much genius at picking stuff like that out so their supposed to be pretty much perfect.
Once he finishes, he's supposed to come in making all sorts of excuses for whatever it is you're about to open. He's supposed to tell you things like, "It's gonna bring us closer together..." and "You won't get it, but I'll explain it and then I think you'll like it..." and it's all supposed to completely confuse you.
Then, you're supposed to start pulling the paper off of the really long, flat box in front of you. Then you get to the box. You open the first flap. Then the second. Then you're supposed to pull out the most beautiful, flat piece of bamboo on wheels that you've ever seen.
That's right people, you're supposed to get a longboard. Now for this recipe for a perfect birthday to work, you have to have been wishing for the more part of your life for a longboard, but you have to be one of those people who would pretty much never in a million years buy one for themselves. Plus, the boy is supposed to know you well enough to know exactly which one you would have chosen and he's supposed to have gotten you that EXACT one.
You're supposed to freak out a little bit. Not only at the fact that you are now the proud owner of the sickest longboard in the world, but at how amazing your boyfriend is to know you so well. You're supposed to be amazed that he thought about it enough to get you something that you could do together because he knows what makes you happy. You're supposed to be so caught up in how incredible he is for thinking of such a gift, that all you can do is jump eagerly back and forth between him and the longboard, him...and the longboard...
Then you're supposed to go longboarding and have him on his bike right next to you the entire time. It's supposed to feel exactly as you pictured it and the boy is supposed to talk about how much he loves watching you on it and how excited he is to be boarding next to you in Cali when you live there over the summer and about how much he loves his life with you and on and on and on...
Then you go back home. You go home and he's supposed to have gotten the movie that you've been itching to see for weeks. You're supposed to watch it together and get tired together. Then you're supposed to fall asleep together.
Through everything he's supposed to make absolutely certain at all times that you know that it's him and you. That the next year? It's just him and you. That the year after that is the same. He's supposed to turn every single thing that could be a stress, or a worry, or a concern and turn it into something positive. Something that will make you happy. Something that lets you know he loves you and wants to be with you for the rest of his life.
You're supposed to be one hundred percent convinced at the end of the day that all this time you were wrong about birthdays.
By that last breath before you fall asleep, you're supposed to be convinced that no birthday could ever out-do this one, but secretly, you're supposed to already counting down the minutes, until next year. All because that boy was bound and determined to love you through it.
How did I get so lucky?