Touching Birthday Message To Myself

Celebrating your birthday means you acknowledge your existence as a human here on earth. But what if your special day in life turns into nightmare that haunts you forever? What would you do? Kimberly Jade Quesada loves to celebrate her birthday every year eversince she was a child. Lahat halos ng gusto niyang regalo ay nakukuha niya magmula sa mga damit, gadgets at kahit na ang presensya ng kanyang mga magulang na abala sa trabaho ay nagagawa siyang paglaanan ng oras sa kanyang kaarawan. Ito ang petsa na palagi niyang inaabangan kada taon kung saan nakukuha niya ang lahat at nararamdaman niya ang pagmamahal ng mga taong nakapalibot sa kanya. Pero paano kung ang mismong petsa na minamahal-mahal niya ay unti-unting maglaho at mapalitan ng pagkamuhi at pagkasuklam? Anong gagawin niya? "No matter how many times we argue, I still think that you are the best and will always be the greatest mom here on earth," saad ko kasabay ng pagdausdos ng luha sa gilid ng mga mata ko. "Open your eyes for me, Hyacinth. Mama, hayaan mo naman akong makabawi sayo," pakiusap ko pa habang nakayapos sa malamig at nababahiran ng dugo niyang katawan. She loves to celebrate birthdays not until binawi ng langit ang dalawang regalong ibinigay sa kanya.

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

Noah, the rich young master had the best looks everyone admired. However, he didn't care about that. He lived like a mess which was a waste of everything he had received so far. His life was neither particularly bad nor particularly perfect. He just let his life flow as things occurred. He didn't love himself. That's the truth! That's why he was killed by his partner. Without any concerns, he got together with a man named William. And ended up getting sacrificed for his greed. Yet, he got another chance. Realizing, he was reborn, he didn't want to live that same tasteless life anymore. As a new start, he decided to study abroad. While he was there, he met the boy named Michel who ended up stealing his heart. For his heart which had no place for love and trust, Michel was the antidote. Regardless, there was no end to the strange things which kept happening to them from time to time. Experiencing a lot of things other people would never be able to, they finally found their happiness. Two souls that carried their regrets over two lifetimes, finally found their peace.

My husband and I were in a passionate embrace when his phone suddenly rang. He pushed me away without hesitation, and I snatched the phone from his hand angrily. It was a message from his sister-in-law. [Henry, my mastopathy is acting up again. What should I do? My breasts hurt so much.] It was followed by a picture of her in sexy lingerie. That was when I lost my temper. "Your sister-in-law is such a shameless woman! How could she share such a picture with you in the middle of the night? How dare she harass you like this after your brother's passing?!" Henry kicked me out of bed. "Stop being petty and vicious, Tessa! My brother's death has been a huge blow for her. What's wrong with me showing her concern as family when she's sick?” "Have you any idea how disappointed I am with you? Apologize right now, or I'll divorce you!" In all our years of marriage, Henry would always threaten me with divorce because I was the one who courted him for five years before finally marrying him. He felt that I would never be able to leave him, but this time, I had lost all hope in him. I did not want him anymore.

Arabella worked hard and was killed now in order to come back she must live lives to save other realms

Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned. I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband. Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time. As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David. “El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!” David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused. “David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.” “El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.” The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound. It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me. My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.

I was eight months pregnant when my water broke—the same day as the birthday of my husband’s adopted son. To keep my child from being born on the same day as his adopted son's, he forced me to wait until after midnight. He refused to take me to the hospital and locked me in the basement. Adrian Shaw looked down at me. His eyes were dark and hostile. “Elena, you're really good at picking the timing, huh? Of all days, you had to go into labor on Evan’s birthday.” I begged him to take me to the hospital. A trace of disappointment flashed across his eyes, and his voice turned cold. “You’re still trying to lie to me? I asked a doctor. Even if your water breaks, you don’t give birth right away. Some women don’t deliver for three days. “All this scheming is just to secure your position as Mrs. Shaw, so your child can compete with Evan for his birthday and his place. You've really thought this through.” I took a deep breath as despair washed over me. “The baby I’m carrying is yours too! Adrian, I’m begging you. Please, for the child’s sake, save her. As long as the baby is safe, I promise I’ll never show up in front of you again.” His expression darkened. He bent down, grabbed my chin, and replied harshly, “Don’t play games with me. “As long as you stay here quietly until after midnight, I’ll take you to the hospital. Once the baby’s born, you can finally use the child to secure your place and truly marry into the Shaw family.” Later, when my contractions grew unbearable and I cried out in pain, he found me too noisy and took Evan and his mother out to celebrate instead. By the time he remembered me and asked whether I had a boy or a girl, his secretary’s face paled. “Mrs. Shaw is… gone.”

I accompany my husband, Michael Yates, to a stationed assignment on a remote island. Out at sea, a sudden storm hits. The ship capsizes and begins to sink. As the commanding officer, my husband gives the last life vest to his so-called godsister, Naomi Hollister. I don't cry or scream. I just watch silently as he carefully fastens the straps around her body. In my past life, I had clutched my pregnant belly and begged him for help. After a brief hesitation, he finally put the vest on me. But Naomi was swept away by the waves, and her body later washed up on shore. Only half of it remained. Michael insisted it wasn't my fault. He also said that saving me was his duty, both morally and professionally. He even took leave to stay by my side before I gave birth. But when my water broke in the dead of night, he pushed me into the sea. His eyes were bloodshot and burning with hatred. "Leah, if it weren't for you, Mimi would still be alive! Did you really have to force me to give you the vest when you were just pregnant? Couldn't you have waited a little longer? Why do you get to live? Go down there and die with her!" I drown, and fish tear my body apart. I die without even a full corpse left behind. And then, I open my eyes. I'm back on the day of the storm.

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.