Today is my birthday, and I’ve been abandoned here, As a neglected and unloved dog, I’ve been starving for days
Today is my birthday, but the day feels no different than any other, except perhaps colder, emptier, and more lonely. It should have been a day of celebration, joy, and warmth, yet I find myself abandoned, sitting in a house that no longer feels like home. The silence is deafening, and the air is thick with a suffocating sense of neglect. My stomach churns from hunger, but it’s not just the physical hunger gnawing at me. It’s the hunger for love, for connection, for some reminder that I still matter. But there is none. I’ve been starving for days, not just for food, but for care, for attention, and for affection.
I feel like a neglected and unloved dog, left out in the cold, forgotten by the very people who once showered me with attention. At one time, I thought I had a place in this world, with people who cared for me, but now, on my birthday of all days, that illusion has been shattered. The world seems to have moved on without me, and here I am, left to pick up the pieces of a life that no longer seems to fit.
The day started with a faint hope that maybe things would be different, that maybe someone would remember. I woke up with that familiar twinge of excitement that comes with birthdays—a small part of me still believing in the magic of the day, that it would bring something special, even in the smallest of ways. But as the hours slipped by and the day began to fade, that hope slowly died. The phone never rang, there were no knocks on the door, no messages, no cards—just silence.
The emptiness in my stomach mirrors the emptiness in my heart. I haven’t eaten properly in days, not because there’s no food, but because I’ve lost the will to care for myself. The effort of making a meal feels pointless when there’s no one to share it with. The hunger has become an all-too-familiar companion, one that I’ve learned to live with, much like the loneliness that has crept into every corner of my life.
I think about those stray dogs I’ve seen on the streets, wandering aimlessly, looking for scraps of food, a kind hand, or even a soft place to rest. Their ribs visible through their thin coats, their eyes dull and tired from a lifetime of being ignored. I see myself in them. I, too, am wandering, looking for something, anything, that will make me feel alive again, that will remind me I’m still human, still worthy of love. But like those dogs, I’ve been overlooked, forgotten, as if I don’t exist.
The hunger is more than just physical; it’s emotional, spiritual even. I’ve been starving for days, weeks, maybe even years, for someone to look at me and truly see me, to acknowledge that I am here, that I am real, that I matter. But that acknowledgement never comes. I’m invisible, like a shadow that flits across the walls unnoticed. On the outside, I go through the motions, but inside, there’s nothing left. The person I used to be feels like a distant memory, someone I can’t quite recognize anymore.
As the day drags on, I try to distract myself, but everything feels hollow. The television blares in the background, but the noise only amplifies the silence in my heart. I scroll through social media, watching other people celebrate their birthdays with loved ones, cakes, and laughter. I see their smiling faces, their colorful balloons, and their heartfelt messages, and I can’t help but wonder what I did wrong. What did I do to end up here, alone and forgotten, on the one day that is supposed to be about celebrating life?
The loneliness wraps around me like a heavy blanket, smothering me. I try to shake it off, but it clings to me, weighing me down. I feel like I’m drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into a sea of despair, and no one is there to pull me out. No one even knows I’m sinking. Or worse, no one cares.
I wander from room to room, looking for something to anchor me, something to remind me that I am still here, still alive. But each room feels colder than the last, the walls closing in on me. I sit down by the window, watching the world outside go by. People are walking, talking, living their lives, completely unaware of the battle I’m fighting inside. I wonder what it would feel like to be a part of that world again, to be connected to something, to someone.
I think back to birthdays of the past, when things were different. When there were people around, when there was laughter, when I felt like I belonged. But those memories feel distant now, like they happened to someone else, in another lifetime. The people who once filled my life with joy and love are gone, moved on, forgotten me. Or maybe it’s me who’s changed, who’s drifted away. I don’t know anymore.
The day fades into night, and with it, the last flicker of hope I had. The house is dark now, and the loneliness is even more palpable. I sit in the quiet, my stomach growling, my heart aching, and I wonder how much longer I can go on like this. How much longer I can survive without the things that make life worth living—love, connection, companionship.
I am a neglected dog, left to fend for myself in a world that has no place for me. I wander through the days, searching for scraps of kindness, for someone to notice me, to remember me. But no one does. I am invisible, forgotten, starving for love in a world that has none to give.
Today was supposed to be my day. But instead, it has become a stark reminder of just how alone I am, how unloved I have become. The hunger inside me grows with each passing moment, and I wonder if I will ever feel full again.
