The days approaching my birthday pass quicker than I anticipated and my anxiety grows with each passing night. It's stupid, but I really hate my birthday. I hate the fuss, the fake smiles and words, and don't get me started on how much of a waste the birthday card industry is. £2.50 for a piece of coloured card, which already has 'Happy Birthday' written in it, that I will never use again? And those aren't even the worse ones. Some sing when you open them.

I shudder just at the thought of opening such a card.

My iPod, which is shuffling some of my favourite music in an attempt to calm down, falls into silence and I sigh. I have more than enough music on there which means I have been sat in here, hiding from my birthday, for far too long.

I've been up half the night, unable to sleep, so I decide to have a little nap instead of cursing the rising sun.

It feels like only a moment later Sam is shaking me awake, but as I stretch I realise that I must have been asleep for considerably longer than a moment.

"Sorry, I left you as long as I could but if you sleep any longer then we'll be late." Sam murmurs and I nod, glancing at the watch lying on my bedside table and noting that it's gone midday.

"S'alright." I mumble, sitting on the edge of my bed for a second to fully regain consciousness.

"Happy Birthday, by the way." Sam says over his shoulder, his mouth curling up into a happy smile and I return it as best I can.

He walks out, instructing me to dress warm and I nod, not questioning where it is that we're going because I know he won't tell me. I shuffle towards my wardrobe, plucking out a soft t-shirt, jeans and my Totoro sweater to go beneath my coat. I dress sluggishly, tying up my boots and shoving my unruly hair beneath my favourite dark blue beanie.

I trail out of my room and find Sam leant against the sofa, a huge rucksack resting beside his foot and I frown in concern. He glances up at me, sliding his phone away with a satisfied smile.

"You ready to go?" He asks and I nod but hesitate for a second. I go to take off my glasses, intending to switch them to contacts when Sam's voice stops me.

"Why do you always do that?" He asks and I frown.

"Why don't you ever wear your glasses in public?" He clarifies, editing his question so that I can comprehend him and I shrug, fidgeting with the arms of them.

"They don't suit me." I admit, not wanting to say the actual, teasing words that had been thrown at me in high school, unbeknownst to Sam. I have always been an introvert, but I've not always been over 6ft tall.

Sam scoffs, rolling his eyes melodramatically.

"Yes, they do, Elias. Whoever told you that was lying." He states and I pause, my lips twitching upwards.

"Really?" I ask, surprised at his response.

"Yes, they make you look hot. Now can we go?" He asks briskly but I savour the compliment. Sam doesn't hand them out very often, so I nod quietly, sliding my glasses back onto my face with a small smile.

He glances at my jumper, peeking through the opening of my coat and he grins to himself. Smug bastard. I glance at his wrist and find myself equally satisfied that my gift is still encasing it, the metal plate gleaming in the weak January sunshine.

"So where are we headed?" I ask curiously, my mind trying to map out every possible eventuality. Sam winks at me and shakes his head, guiding me towards the train station and I sigh, the possibilities increasing by ten-fold as my mind busily interprets the information.

"Do you want to open your present now, when we get there, or at home?" He asks and I ponder the question thoughtfully.

"At home." I decide and he nods, exhaling heavily and I gaze at him quizzically.

"I accidentally left it at home." He explains and I laugh.

"Why'd you ask then?" I inquire and he smiles slyly.

"Just checking how well I know you." He responds and I nod slowly, turning my head towards the window but my mind not straying from the subject.

"And what have you concluded?" I ask casually, my eyes betraying me and flicking towards his expression. His face morphs into a knowing smile as he leans back into his chair.

"That I know you pretty damn well." He states and I roll my eyes, huffing as I attempt to hide my smile.

"I'd hope so, I've known you long enough." I mutter and he throws his head back laughing.

"You make it sound like the worst time of your life." He replies, his eyes crinkling at the edges. I remain silent, taunting and teasing him as I keep my face passive, shrugging my shoulders in response. His smile lessens slightly and I feel my façade break, the corners of my mouth turning upward as I laugh at his expense.

"Cold, Eli." He grumbles, shaking his head and I nudge his foot with mine playfully.

"I'd still be a lonely loser without you. How can you even tolerate the idea that my life would be better if you weren't a part of it?" I ask incredulously, although my voice is calm.

"That's not true, plenty of people want to get to know you." He argues and I roll my eyes, leaning forward as I balance my elbows on my knees.

"Yes, but only one person's ever been brave enough to do it." I state, my eyes flicking between his as he mulls over my argument. He remains silent and I lean back in satisfaction.

"Only because I was an idiot with no inhibitions or social understanding whatsoever. I thought everyone was my friend." He reasons, finally finding his voice and I chuckle, agreeing with his description absolutely.

"I don't care why you did it, I'm just glad you did." I mutter, my hands folding together into my lap. Sam had moved to my school during the middle of the academic year, but unlike me, he had a naturally likable personality and a happy-go-lucky temperament. He'd approached me with no fear in his heart, sat down and asked if I liked dinosaurs.

Young Elias was a fucking encyclopaedia on dinosaurs, and to this day we joke that I had charmed him with my prehistoric knowledge, enticing him in with fun facts and an array of weird and wonderful books; all of them his, should he want them.

Everything had been so easy, as if we were made to be friends.

"Elias? We're here." Sam states, grasping my hand and pulling me up. His hand hesitates in mine for a moment before reaching to pull out his wallet and I do the same, tapping my oyster card and exiting the station.

"Okay, it should be just down the road." Sam says and I swallow uneasily. Sam is hopeless when it comes to directions.

"Are you sure?" I ask, making my voice as easy and confident as possible but Sam still glares at me.

"Yes, I happen to have made the journey before," He says facetiously. "Just in case." He adds on in a mumble and I laugh under my breath, biting my lip in an attempt to remain serious.

We walk along a fence, approaching a gate which is propped open for the public. Sam leads me in and fishes out two pieces of paper from his pocket. Before I can get a peek, he hands them to a man wearing a bright green shirt and a fanny pack, who promptly tears them and directs us to the left.

"Sam? What are we doing?" I ask, my eyes watching the crowds of people warily.

He ignores my plea and instead scans the surrounding area, scouting something out. He selects a spot and rummages around in his bag, tugging out my old checked blanket. He lays it on the floor and settles himself comfortably. Meanwhile, I look around, taking in the huge projector screen in front of us and I smile to myself, finally grasping an idea in my mind as to what we're doing.

I sit down beside Sam, noting that he's chosen a very remote spot from others, which I smile at.

He continues to dig through his rucksack, producing a variety of different snacks. My favourite sandwich, crisps, chocolates and drinks all fall from his bag and I laugh openly at how excessive this is.

"You're absolutely ridiculous." I mumble, picking up the thermos and twisting the lid, inhaling hot chocolate instead of coffee for a change.

"You don't like caffeinated drinks." Sam mutters, presumably answering the shocked expression on my face and I grin, shaking my head.

"No, I don't, but you do." I mutter, peering into the thermos in disbelief.

Sam rolls his eyes and gives me a disbelieving look.

"It's your day, idiot." He says simply, as if that should be a reasonable enough argument. Perhaps to other people it is, but to me, this still feels like a bit too much. I suck up the feeling, happy to see that a snickers bar is lying in the mix of diabetes invoking snacks. I detest nuts in chocolate, so I perk up at the idea that he's picked something solely for himself.

Sam shuffles around a little, producing another blanket and I start to wonder where he's been keeping all of this stuff. He tucks it around us cosily as I pluck up a sandwich, thankful that he thought of food as I am starving.

The screen in front of us flickers for a moment before the opening sequence of the film begins. Laughter erupts from me as I recognise the film instantly, glancing at Sam who looks very pleased with himself.

I peer down at my jumper, smirking at how appropriate it is and settle in to watch one of my favourite animations; all the while internally thanking my best friend for providing me with the best birthday yet.

_

My neighbour Totoro is, as usual, a cinematic explosion of awesome and it's the best version I've seen yet. Whether it's because we were watching it on an enormous screen or because Sam was tucked into my side the entire time; I can't tell.

His eyes keep fluttering shut on the way home, so I shuffle from my seat opposite into the seat next to him and he promptly leans against my shoulder, sighing in content. I toy with the idea of getting out my headphones and listening to music, but that idea is fleeting when I realise they're stuck in my back pocket. I watch the landscape flying past us instead, glad that our stop is quickly approaching.

I nudge Sam with my shoulder as familiar signs become apparent and he reluctantly peels his eyes open just in time for us to depart from the train.

"So, did you like it?" Sam asks genuinely and I smile largely.

"Yeah, a lot. Probably the best birthday I've ever had." I admit and Sam grins smugly although his eyes still appear heavy.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" I ask, watching him yawn for the second time in less than 45 seconds.

"Not really, I promised myself I'd only watch one episode and suddenly I'm two seasons in and screaming at Meredith Grey because DAMNIT she deserves better!" He responds and I burst into laughter suddenly. Grey's anatomy was a very good excuse to be sleep deprived.

"If it's any help, it only gets worse." I state and Sam groans.

"No, that's not helpful. At all." He utters spitefully as I shrug.

I unlock the door to our flat and hold it open for him as he breezes past. I shut it gently and turn to see that instead of heading up to his room, Sam stumbles into the living room instead. He slots a DVD into the player and turns on the TV, crawling onto the couch and patting the seat next to him.

I sit down, grinning as the opening scenes of Jurassic Park echo through the room.

"It's still early, nap through this one and then join me for the next two." I murmur, watching Sam nod sleepily as he settles down. He scrunches up and I tug his legs into my lap, my eyes still glued to the screen in avid attention.

His soft breathing evens out and I lean back contentedly, the first film passing quickly. I turn the volume down as the Tyrannosaurus makes his grand entrance. I find that the words of the dialogue are on the brink of my lips as I follow the scenes for perhaps the thousandth time and I visibly cringe at how lame I am.

As the credits start to roll, I shift Sam's legs and switch the DVD's, deciding to let him sleep for a little longer as the second film is his least favourite.

I settle down on the floor in front of the sofa, not wanting to disturb him further. I don't notice that he's awake until almost an hour later, when he pokes the back of my head. I turn to face him, my attention briefly drawn away from the treacherous scene unfolding on the screen.

"Why're you on the floor?" He grumbles and I roll my eyes, turning back to the TV.

"You hungry?" I ask, choosing not to answer his question and he hums in confirmation. I move to get up but Sam beats me to it, shuffling towards his laptop which is perched on the coffee table.

"Pizza?" He asks and I nod enthusiastically. He already knows my favourite toppings so I leave him to it, my attention effectively captured by the film once more.

The ending is quickly approaching and I find my hands fumbling with the edge of my shirt as I absently shift my awkwardly folded legs. The doorbell interrupts my focus but I don't bother to shift my attention, instead holding my wallet out to the side of me for Sam to take. My eyebrows pucker into a frown as my wallet is left untouched and I glance to the corridor, frowning even more when I hear Sam shut the door. I throw my wallet onto the table and focus on the film instead of how much money Sam is spending on me.

The film ends and I sigh, sliding the last disc into the player as I hear a clatter of glasses from the kitchen. I press play, remaining on the floor as I do so.

"Happy Birthday Elias!" Sam yells, causing me to jump out of my skin as I whirl around to face him.

In his hands, the pizza box lays open with a lit candle stuffed in the middle where the little plastic table should be.

I laugh at his absurd replacement for a cake, but humour him anyway. He kneels down next to me grinning, his eyes gleaming in the meagre candlelight.

"Make a wish!" He encourages and I roll my eyes, not having any need for a wish. I close my eyes and blow it out, internally wishing for many more days like this, as this is possibly one of my favourite days of my life so far.

"Yay!" Sam sings and I shake my head, smiling at his idiocy and grabbing a slice from my side before Sam steals it all. I take a bite, munching it eagerly as my eyes slide back towards the TV.

"This is so much better than cake." I murmur, leaning into Sam's side as he grapples with the box in an attempt to sit comfortably by my side. We could be sat on the sofa but I can't be bothered to move and it seems, neither can Sam.

"I actually agree with you." Sam mutters, his eyes following the characters on screen and I raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"You love cake." I state.

"Yeah, but pizza is so much better. Plus, two people eating an entire cake is socially unacceptable but two people eating a pizza? Perfectly normal." He reasons and I ponder his words for a moment, nodding to myself as I conclude that that is an excellent point.

We finish eating around half way through the film and I can feel Sam's attention waning. He finds it near impossible to sit still for this amount of time, but I know he's trying for my sake.

"So, can I open my present now?" I ask, breaking the silence and Sam exhales heavily, smiling at the excuse to get up.

"Sure, I'll go get it." He replies, scampering up the stairs. He's gone for a while and when he finally returns, it appears to be reluctantly. He's holding a little rectangular object, wrapped shockingly neatly, which is clenched tightly in his hands. His face is a flood of emotions, his eyebrows pinched together and his lips pursed into a thin line.

"You alright, mate?" I ask uneasily, wishing I were able to see his perplexing thoughts.

"Uh, yeah." He utters, although he doesn't sound sure of himself, not at all. My eyes flicker between his face and the present clutched in his hand, trying to piece together the puzzle stood in front of me.

"You don't have to give it to me, if you don't want to." I say tentatively but he shakes his head stubbornly. He drops his shoulders and sighs, thrusting the gift out towards me before he can change his mind.

I take it slowly, giving him the chance to retract it but he doesn't.

I hold it in my hands limply, wondering how bad this unassuming gift could possibly be. I flip it over in my hands and look back to Sam, who is stood uncomfortably by the arm of the sofa.

"Do you want me to open it now?" I ask and he nods slowly. I exhale heavily and decide to just open it, because in reality, how bad can it really be?

I tear off the tape, taking my time and sliding the paper off neatly. In my hands is a little blue notebook and I vaguely recognise it from our childhood. I hadn't seen it in years, but for a long while Sam was never without it. I frown curiously, flipping open the front cover for the first time. He'd not been secretive about it, purely because he hadn't had to be. I respected his privacy, but now my curiosity is getting the better of me.

Sam's signature scrawl litters the pages and it's a miracle that I have acquired the skill to read it, as 99% of the general population would struggle to understand even a sentence. The entire book is filled with Sam's innermost thoughts and I automatically know that I won't be getting any sleep tonight as I try to decipher the words written within it.

My eyes scan the pages eagerly, laughing at Sam's personal documentation techniques. He abbreviates words he doesn't know how to spell, sometimes including crude and hilarious diagrams to illustrate his points. I find myself smiling as I recall the events he writes about, but more importantly, I'm shocked at just how much I feature in his thoughts and experiences.

It shouldn't be surprising, but for some reason it is.

I flip to the end and find that the last time he wrote in it is dated two years ago. I grin to myself, excited to read about this newly discovered facet of my best friend.

"Thank you so much, Sam." I utter, glancing up at him and laughing as I hold up the notebook. He blushes slightly but shrugs as if it's no big deal.

"Really, this is awesome. I know what I'll be doing tonight." I assure, flicking through the pages again And Sam scoffs.

"Knowing you, it'll take two hours tops." He says and I nod to myself.

In the end, it only takes me an hour and forty-five minutes to read and absorb every word written within the little blue notebook. However, sleep doesn't find me for a long time afterwards as I try and memorise every detail, every new fact. I had analysed the way he had written without really thinking or meaning to, although any conclusions to be made are still pending.

I had committed every word he'd written about me to memory and as conceited as that sounds, I can't bring myself to feel bad about it. So, when my eyes refuse to shut, I decide that I want to do something for him in return.

He had revealed to me his most intimate thoughts and feelings. Sam's naturally a carefree, emotional person anyway. How interesting would he find my thoughts, I wonder idly? I suppose there's really only one way to find out.

So, I dig out a moleskin notebook from my desk; which are usually only reserved for very important projects, and get to work. I write, as eloquently as I know how, every moment of today. I write about it, not only for him but for me as well. I want to remember everything.

I document my thoughts, my overwhelming emotions, everything. I even include a rare doodle of Totoro in the margin, smiling at how well it comes out.