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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1067886-The-Birthday-Card
Rated: E · Short Story · Relationship · #1067886
Its about the little things in life.
Standing in the camp, the stove stocked with wood, warming the cold winter night, shed just enough light to see one another. With the help of the small glow from the table lamp, I stood there in his arms, holding him tightly, soaking up the greatest amount of light and heat possible. Through the smell of the smoke floating throughout the room I could smell his familiar cologne reminding me how lucky I was, and how happy I was to be there in that moment.

“I have something for you,” he said in a barely audible tone.

His voice sounded calm and smooth the way it always did when he spoke. Letting go of me, he reached across the small brown wooden table for something in the chair on the opposite side. I watched him in wonder, not knowing what he was reaching for. His slow and steady movements, although nothing out of the ordinary, amazed me.

He turned towards me and handed me a piece of plain white computer paper, folded straight down the center, forming a card. With the dim lamp light on the table, I could just make out the words on the front, handwritten sloppily in black ink. “HAPPY B-DAY BRITTANY”

I was surprised and happy. Wondering what would be written on the inside, I opened the card. A smile came across my face as if it were an automatic reflex. Before I read the message, a drawing popped out to me. Drawn on the right side, were two stick figures hand in hand with big smiles. It was obvious it was a drawing of he and I.

The drawing was simple, crooked, and lacking any trace of talent, yet knowing what it was, and realizing how much he really did care about me, made it seem greater than any Picasso painting. The guy in the drawing smiled, with short scribbles on his head forming a mohawk, and the girl smiled just as big with long wavy scribbles for hair, and glasses resting on her invisible ears.

With a big smile on my face from seeing the drawing, I read the message written on the left side, in the same sloppy handwriting that was on the front. “YAY your 19! But anyways, if you don’t like you gift I have the receit. J But Im sure you’ll like it. Or how about another bad drawing” It wasn’t full of meaning, the spelling wasn’t perfect, and the grammar wasn’t written in proper English standards, but to me, it still seemed flawless, and full of meaning. He had made it himself, just for me.

I felt like I was holding something in my hands worth more than anything I had ever received before. Yet, it was just a single sheet of paper with a crease down the center, and scribbles on it.

With him still watching me, and standing by my side, he reached back across the table for something else. When I saw what was in his hand, I knew a look of confusion shot across my face as a smile automatically went across his. The bag that he handed me wasn’t one to be expected. Made of paper, with red and yellow writing, and a big “M” on the front, it was obvious what it was. A McDonald’s bag. I gazed at him with a raised eyebrow and crooked smile of confusion, then opened up the bag, wondering if I was really about to find a cheeseburger and fries.

My eyes slowly peeked into the bag, realizing that what it contained was nothing edible at all. I put my hand inside and pulled out a CD. Alkaline Trio. It was his favorite band, the band that was almost always supported by his t-shirts, and the band that he had first made me watch a concert of, right after we met.

I was overcome with happiness, and anyone who was to look at me would have been able to tell by the big glowing smile across my face. I turned towards him and wrapped my arms around him tightly. Holding his body as close to mine as I could get it. “Do you like it?” He asked me. “I love it.” I told him. As we continued to stand there, holding each other, I put my head upon his chest and listened to his heartbeat. He squeezed me tighter, embracing me, as I was already clasping onto him as tightly as I could, not wanting to ever let go of him.
Out the corner of my eye, I could still see the card lying on the table. I looked up at him as he looked back at me. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim luminosity of the fire. The bliss I felt was promising as he tilted his head lower to make his lips meet mine.

I wasn’t expecting anything for my 19th birthday, but what I got, felt like everything. There’s so much in the world that people miss, always thinking about the big things. But it’s not really about how much money you have, or what you do. Life is about all the little gestures and moments that might seem unimportant, and who you’re with for them. Maybe all a person really needs is a folded piece of paper, with sloppy handwriting in black ink, and a stick figure drawing, to have the world.


*~ThatShuttsGril~*
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