On my birthday, I invited all my closest friends, but no one showed up: And when I found out why, I was horrified 
I never thought my 35th birthday would become the worst day of my life. Usually, I didn’t make a big deal out of it, but this time I wanted warmth, coziness, and connection. I decided to celebrate at home: set the table, cook my signature dishes, and invite my dearest friends — people I’d been through fire, water, and sleepless nights with.
We agreed to meet at my place at six. I spent the whole day on my feet — bought fresh groceries, marinated meat, cooked soup, baked a pie, set a beautiful table. Everything looked perfect: candles, music, glasses, napkins, tableware. I even felt a pleasant nervousness, like before a first date.