One more try and two more years

I don't know when I can stop having kids. And I didn't know when I started wanting them. When I was 19, I remember distinctly wanting to adopt for the good of the planet and the good of the world.

Well, now that I think about it, I actually do know when I started wanting kids. It was 2013 about, I was just graduating from University of Iowa and that theatre professor who had started preying on me told me how much he wanted to have kids.

His obsession somehow stuck with me. I became him in many ways, obsessed with how old I was becoming and finding someone to have a child with. I was becoming him...

Dude, is that the answer I've been looking for?

I've been crying and freaking out for weeks now that Taka dumped me again. Wondering what I was going to do with myself now that I have no future in Japan with inlaws, etc. etc.

Neil is out with another girl. He won't reply to my messages. I don't even know if he'll come back tonight. And Micheal just came on line. I'm so confused. My own wishy washyness really got me into this.

I'm even texting Sasha for company. Am I a loner? Am I alone? What am I doing right now? What do I want to be doing?

Calling my friends and they give me the same answers that I always hear. They might be good answers, but I'm looking for different answers? I'm looking for answers that burn inside my heart with truth? I'm chasing a dragon of rational thinking and spinning my wheels as I go nowhere and do nothing.

Who's out there? Can you hear me? I'm screaming silence into a deafening quiet.

The only person of the 10 people I texted was Taka, only to tell me to "move on." I'm trying, you know? I just don't know where I'm going at the moment, or what I'm doing anymore. You date so many people and you don't know what anyone wants anymore, the colors all start turing into a pale white and everything starts looking the same, even though they themselves are different.

Complete knowledge is a blank canvas. It's in the separation and the limited absorption that we can get colors.

I want to make an album.
I want to have a kid that looks like me.
I want to be fluent in Japanese.
I want to be a foreign diplomat. (?) maybe not (?)
I want to create the most epic of porn novels
I want to create a video game

The Optimistic Family

When I told my family about how Taka dumped me....well, each and everyone of them said "I'm sure you guys can work this out."

I'm not even kidding you.

In America, if you tell your friend that a friend dumped you, they say "It's time to move on."

I'm not sure how to take this news.

I asked if we could meet  to talk, and he said yes! After my trip to Pakistan that is. I don't know how he'll feel or what we'll talk about. But my brother said that as long as I can "keep it chill" then it may work.

My Dad confirmed..."Just don't get emotional! Show him your strong and you're worth it.  The fact that my dad actually liked the sound of one of my boyfriends it in of itself makes my jaw drop. "Would you like me to fly out and meet him?" He asks me, knowing that Taka and I are currently broken up...hang on, dad. Let me see if I can even get back together with him.

In my experience, if you are completely honest with the other person and also keep trying, the relationship will keep going. But just like the undead rising, the resulting creature is unpredictable and entirely different from what you started with.

In that moment of hoping and wanting, you are faced too with the truth of yourself. I remember, after begging my ex to get back together with me, he asked "Do you really think it will work?" and then I knew my tears and crying were for a lost dream, not a lost man. It was the death of the innocence of true love and your only one.

But with Taka....it was 6 months of no fights and joy. We never spent a day together that wasn't enjoyable until the week before he broke up with me. But it wasn't his fault, it was me. I usually sequester myself when I have PMS, but this week we had a trip planned, and so we needed to go. And we got into a fight. And then...it was over.

I mean, I know....some people talk to their partners about their behavior rather than just assuming the worst and bailing. But...enough people have told me that I need to work on the hyper emotions that it doens't even matter. It's my fault because I know I have a problem and I know I have to fix it. Fin.

Anyway, I am hoping for the best for the conversation Taka and I will have next week. I also have been trying to mentally prepare for if he decides to bail:

I text him "I'm back in town." Only that to test if he even wants to meet. A day goes by and no reply. No reply the next. Day after day after day. What will I text him next? "We're still meeting up, right?" How far will it go. I need to promise myself that  if after I ask to meet with him and he doesn't reply, that it's over. IT'S OVER. PLEASE PROMISE ME.

I promise, Nisha. I promise.

He's gone now....

Dear Nisha,

Yeah, I didn't know what else to call it. Taka dumped me. I was coming, but I didn't see it until it was too late.

I'm not sure how to feel.

Well, that's not true. I feel sad and horrible. But...like I haven't even written about him. I barely have any pictures of him. I was totally not invested in the relationship because I didn't think someone as hot and loving and funny as he could like me. I've never had a guy that one could consider "hot" actually say he liked me before.

And I didn't want to lose control of myself, and I didn't want him breaking my heart, and honestly, I didn't trust him because there was no way that someone like him could like someone like me.

And then Steven's dad got sick, my aunt got sick, my sister needed help with everything, my meds ran out and I was having  a few pretty bad weeks. But rather than texting or calling him, I wanted him to call me. So I'd just send a bunch of sad emojis to him, and  he's stressed out with finals, wishing I'd text him good luck etc.  So it was all too much for him and he decided that it wouldn't work out between us. He just decided for us, and that was the end of it.

And then I go back and see how much he tried, how many 大好きs he'd send me, and face with heart eyes and ask me how my day was even though fell asleep and never responded.

And now that's exactly what I'm getting. And how can I blame him?

But I don't know what to do. It's easy when a guy breaks up for me to be like...ok, frig that. No more of that for me. But with Taka....I want it back so badly. I want to fix this very remedial problem. But of course I know it's a symptom of something larger. That Taka is whimsical and once he decided something, he has a hard time changing his mind. Liking me and not liking me included. And unfortunately, it's hard for me to talk to him when he's like that.

But we were learning. Didn't we figure out how to both enjoy birthday time with his friend and him go to the movies? Didn't we figure out how to deal with the bilingual business?

I feel so lost inside. I had this dream of something I really wanted and now it's gone. I should have saved his patience for when I was calmed the frig down, that's for sure.

Bay Bridge

There are few things in life that give me such a sense of wonder as sitting on the top floor of LinkedIn, in my hexagonal cubby looking out at the Bay Bridge. The stark contrast of dark sky to flashing lights between shaft of gray. It fills me with such wonder that I often have to excuse myself to the Palace of Fine Arts on floor 17, turn of the auto-lights and sneak under the table to relieve myself of my exploding joy. It has to be that room, and not the Bay Bridge room just a few meters away, because in that room, the Bay Bridge, even more perfectly framed, would be looking at me in shame. Instead, I let the gritty political buildings in a soft blue glow wash over me as I finish my business.

I find myself here so infrequently. I've become complacent in life living in the suburbs of Sunnyvale, but when I'm on top of the world like I am here, I suddenly feel the overhwhelming urge to mingle with men in Armani suits, to wear sleek blue dresses and spread myself up against window in order to make headlines in the New York Times.

I long to call Aaron, who I know lives in the city to feel like this always. Who always wears button down shirts in space-suit woven fabrics, hair always coiffed in sinusoidal waves. Who longs for a petite woman in black, chiffon shirts, and the skinniest of skinny jeans. That last one always makes me pause. I put the phone down and continue with my work.

I want to be master of this city. I want people to look up from the steady stream of cars as they glide along the Bay Bridge and be consumed with the vision of me.