James was furiously scribbling in his journal, racing the clock. He had exactly 3 minutes until his 19th birthday and he had to finish this journal entry before he had to face the fact that he was now a year older.
Why does it even matter? It’s just a day? Why does it affect me so much??
James hurriedly wipes a small tear off his cheek. The realization of the rapid passage of time was always a cruel birthday gift to him. Every day could be a good day if you ignore the cynical understanding that time moves with or without you. Every day except for one’s birthday where they are faced with the fact that an entire 365 has passed since the last one. And every single person acknowledges it regardless of if you want to.
“Happy birthday James!” “Happy birthday James!” “Wow you’re so old.” “Wow you’ve grown.” “Wow you’ve changed…. You’re not the man you used to be…”
James ignored that last bit when it popped into his head. Electing to push it down and leave it for the next day he allows himself to address his pent up emotions. There’s too many today, the extras will have to carry on to the next time (maybe next birthday if he can wait until 365). But that was always James: running away from the bad feelings so he could embrace the good ones. He was the golden boy. Most likely to make you smile. He lived for the attention normally. He loved that everyone knew him as the light of every room and the most loyal and understanding and supportive. Until he’s sitting alone in his room on his birthday wishing that just one person could realize that even though he hides his nasty emotions, he still has them. But wasn’t that also the whole point in hiding them? So he didn’t have to be a bother to anyone and he could focus on helping his friends who for sure had more important problems than him. He should be able to put his own identity crisis aside for his friends, always. No one needed to know he wished someone could comfort him too… No no he didn’t need anyone to comfort him anyway “its not a problem!” “I’ll get over it!” “No I’m fine! Honest!”
There is only one person he’s ever been brutally honest with… and where is he now? Probably off in France cursing his name. Because the one time he did open up, all of a sudden he was “different.” He had “changed”. He wasn’t the “normal” James Potter.
The grandfather clock in his house chimed a terrible sound signaling the 24 most emotionally weighted hours of his whole year. James allowed a few more tears to fall before wiping them and looking around the empty hall. His parents had gone to sleep and he was entirely alone to start his 19th birthday. He silently scolded himself for being so dramatic. It’s just a birthday!
Yeah but last year I was surrounded by smiling faces seeing a huge camera flash right as it turned 12 and I swore I was… infinite. What did I do wrong?
Why can’t I be enough for my friends? For anyone?
“You’ve changed James. I can’t do this anymore…”
How come no one cares?