The Triangle of Love

The heavenly silence of the early morning was cut short by the blaring sound of the alarm. Exhausted, I couldn't move an inch of my body. I stretched my hand to get my phone that was under the pillow on my right side. Still battling with sleep, I managed to check the time, and it was midnight.

I found myself lying down, my face forced into the pillow, I cursed silently. Why on earth did I just wake up so early? What is wrong with me? this insomnia seemed determined to deny me of excellent sleep every single night. 

I thought and hoped today would be different, I took sedatives and tried to eat light, so I could have a good night's sleep as prescribed by Emily. Here I am fully awake. 

Perhaps I should indulge myself in self-pleasure. So I could return to sleep. I put my hands into my pants as I searched for my clit to rub vigorously so I could have an orgasm that would lead me back to sleep. My vagina is very dry, and the friction started hurting me. And the sensation was not pleasing. 

Well, seems the insomnia has won this battle again. I sighed. The sudden realization that today was my birthday and the alarm was not my wake-up alarm, but rather an indication that I was born this very day as I turned to look up at the ceiling. 

The beam of light rays reflected on my chandelier that was situated at the center of my ceiling as I gave a focused stare at my ceiling. 

“Damn, today is my birthday?” I mumbled. 

A bit of surprise flooded through me as I thought about the importance of the day to me, but as I compared it to my previous birthday out at the orphanage home, there was no utter difference between my birthday and normal days of the week and months. 

At this point sadness began to mix up with the little happiness I was experiencing, I had no bloodline family to celebrate this day with me, or a boy special in my life who made me worth looking ahead to the birthday. 

Just my foster parents and my foster sibling who wants to fuck  me. 

As the alarm went off again, this time around I looked at it and smiled, and I said, “At least you remember today is my birthday”. I let it blare for a while, soaking the atmosphere and giving me the relief that today is special to me in a kind of way. 

After turning off the alarm, I tucked my phone under my pillow, pondering the conflicting emotions stirred by my unknown parentage and the uncertainty surrounding my birthdate determined by the orphanage. 

Questions flooded my mind, fueling the familiar anxiety that often accompanied reflections on my past. Yet, despite the absence of answers, I resolved not to let sadness overshadow my birthday; this year would be different.

Sleep started to creep in a little, and I was lost in thought, maybe sleep. 

“Happy birthday!” The sudden blare of music interrupted my thoughts. That jolted me immediately. 

Turning from the bed, after a sleepless night spent contemplating my life, I was greeted by my foster mom's warm embrace.

“Oh, my baby girl,” she exclaimed with a radiant smile.

After a sleepless night I spent contemplating my life, my foster mom gave me a warm smile that lit my day up, 

“Oh baby girl,” she said as she hugged me deeply, her chin resting on my shoulder, and she whispered 

“Come on, today is your day. You're 23 years old, baby girl,” she said, gently patting my back. 

“Mom,” I began, the weariness evident in my voice, “I am tired, I didn't sleep well last night”

“Huh!” she exclaimed in surprise.

 “Well, that's on you, baby girl. Come and eat your cake.”

As I stretched my arms, Jack interrupted me with a slight nudge on my head

“Happy birthday sis”. The awkwardness was bewildering, but the pretense was perfect. 

Our eyes had a gentle meeting, and immediately we stopped looking at each other. 

“Jack, thank you so much,” I replied, 

“Mom please can you stop the music, it is hurting my head” 

As Mrs. Rosa stood up from the bed, to get the cake, and stopped the music I lay back on the bed trying to catch a glimpse of sleep. 

“All alright that is enough sleep for you tiger”? Mrs. Rosa said as she cut a piece of cake and brought it gently holding it with both hands. 

She stretched out the cake delightfully, the cake looked attractive, but I wasn't desiring some cake. 

“Mom, can I pass?” 

“no, you won't pass”. Mrs. Rosa replied, “It is a family tradition that the celebrant tastes the cake early hours of the morning”. 

“hmm mm”. 

Of course, it is a traditional approach that the Rosa's have kept for a long time, I was part of the family for almost six years and I have never missed the first cake oath.