When my phone buzzed with the date reminder for her birthday today, my chest did that little flutter it always does. Not because birthdays are rare but because this birthday meant something more. She’s not just “a friend.” She’s the girl I met in 2023 when we were both 23, scared, messy, and new to hostel life. We shared a wall, a bathroom line, exam stress, maggi at 2 AM, and dreams we whispered after lights-out. Today, in 2026, she’s a professional psychologist. And I’m a professional physiotherapist. We made it. So her birthday couldn’t be just cake and candles. It had to be a thank-you letter she could see, touch, and feel.
People asked why I didn’t book a banquet hall or a fancy restaurant for the whole day. But I know her. She’s the kind of person who gets overwhelmed by loud crowds but lights up in small, safe spaces. Her favorite color is black. Not “trendy black,” but the deep, calm, elegant black she wears when she wants to feel grounded. She once told me, “Black doesn’t shout. It holds you.” I remembered that line from a random 2023 hostel night talk.
So I decided: small party, hostel room, only 4-5 of our closest people. Intimate. Personal. Like our friendship. I wanted her to walk in and feel, “She remembered.” Not “She arranged something expensive.”
I started planning 5 days before. The wall in our hostel room is plain pinkish-beige. Boring. But I saw potential. If I put black balloons on a shimmery background, the contrast would make her favorite color pop without looking gloomy.I ordered black foil letter balloons spelling HAPPY BIRTHDAY. When they arrived, I panicked — they looked too flat. So I added silver fringe curtains behind them. That was the game-changer. The silver caught light, and suddenly the black letters didn’t look heavy. They looked chic. Elegant. Exactly like her.
I stuck each letter myself, standing on a chair, measuring gaps with my fingers because I forgot the measuring tape. My hands were full of tape residue. Two balloons leaked air, so I had to re-inflate them at 11 PM the night before. My roommate laughed and said, “You’re doing more physio on these balloons than on patients.” She wasn’t wrong.
I added a few pastel pink, green, and orange round balloons at the top just to soften the black. I didn’t want the wall to feel like a goth party. I wanted “black + joy.” And when I stepped back at 1 AM and saw it glowing under the tube light, I cried a little. Because it looked like her. Calm, strong, beautiful, and a little playful.
She’s a psychologist, so she understands people have layers. I wanted a cake that said the same. Layers Chocolate Cake from Layers Bakery. Nutella flavor, because she can eat Nutella straight from the jar and call it “self-care.”
Hahaha...! cake served in plate.. true hostel vibes.
Today morning, the room looked like a war zone. Strings, tape, balloon pieces, cake box, gift bag. I cleared the study table, pushed beds to the side, and made space for people to sit on the floor — because that’s how we always talked in 2023. Cross-legged, backs against the bed, sharing secrets.
When she knocked at 12:00Am, I told her to close her eyes. I heard her take a deep breath before I said “Open.” Silence. Then a gasp. Then she ran and hugged me so tight my back cracked. She didn’t cry. She just kept saying, “You did this… for me… with black…” and touched every balloon like she was memorizing it. That moment alone was worth all the tape and chair-balancing.
She’s a psychologist, so she noticed details I didn’t plan. “You put silver behind black because you know I fear darkness without light,” she said. I hadn’t thought of it that way. But maybe my hands knew what my brain didn’t. That’s friendship, I guess.She looked at me and said, “You’re the reason I believed therapy could be safe.” That hit me harder than any patient’s ‘thank you’. Because I help people walk again. She helps people want to live again. And today, for a few minutes, we helped each other remember why we started.
After the room party, we went to Twist Cafe. It’s one of the most famous cafés in our city. Exposed brick walls, jazz music, and their specialty is drinks. But today we came for comfort food.
We ordered their special pizza — extra cheese, jalapeños, olives. The kind of pizza that makes you close your eyes on the first bite. And loaded fries with cheese sauce, chicken bits, and spring onions. We shared one plate like we shared everything in hostel.
Then the drinks. I ordered Strawberry Soda because I’m still that girl who picks pink things. It came in a tall glass . Sweet, cold, messy. My friend ordered Green Apple Soda. Tart, fizzy, refreshing. Exactly her personality — sharp, clear, wakes you up.
We sat by the window, people-watching. She told me about her first patient who cried in her session today. I told her about a stroke patient who took 3 steps without support. We laughed, we got serious, we went back to laughing. Same pattern as 2023. Some things don’t change, even when job titles do.She raised her glass and said, “To us. From hostel maggi to cafe pizza. We survived.” I clinked my strawberry soda against her green apple soda. The sound was soft, but it felt like a promise.
Today wasn’t about a perfect party. The balloons tilted a little. One slice of cake fell on the floor. We were 10 minutes late to Twist Cafe. But it was perfect because it was ...our....Made by me, for her, with memories of 2023 stitched into every detail.She left with a Tupperware of leftover cake and a hug that lasted too long. I stayed back and looked at the wall one last time before taking the balloons down. The silver fringe was still shining. And I thought: This is what healing looks like. Not just in clinics. But in hostel rooms. In choosing someone’s favorite color. In showing up.
From two girls sharing a kettle in 2023 to a physiotherapist and a psychologist celebrating in 2026 — we didn’t just grow up. We grew TOGETHER. And if that’s not a birthday wish come true, I don’t know what is.
So happy birthday, my person. May your life always have people who remember your favorite color, order your favorite cake, and sit with you through every flavor of soda. I’ll always be that person for you.
#CrossPost on Burt
