If I could go back to year one…
I’d tell everyone I was lying when I said I liked him…and be brave, and tell the truth about who it was. But the one I really liked was my teacher – my mentor. I was already a charity case – how much more awkward would it have been if I had told him I found him attractive? …if I’d told him I had wished the groans had been from something other than a back massage.
I never would have stayed in a relationship that broke me not long after it began – and I’d have been proud to inform him that he could go fuck himself. Because I was as normal as I would ever want to be.
I’d focus more on the dance I now love so much, and fight harder against my cowardice. Because I can be better. I know I can – but I still lack the strength I need for the more interesting moves.
I would throw myself into the language I adore, and make that mental block explode.
If I could go back to year two…
I’d have stayed through fall, but still asked to be transferred to a triple in the spring. …because that semester is the only one I would never, ever change.
I’d have been grinding for more scholarships if I did decide to go to Japan – or at least, fighting to keep the Japanese I’d learned more intensively the year before. (Of course, only now do I know I can do it.)
I would have slept less, and partied more. Because she’s a blast to hang out with, and so are the people I met through her – but was unsure of because of the boyfriend.
If I could go back to last semester…
If in Japan, I’d have been less of a coward about the language. I could make it sound decent even when I had no idea what the hell I was saying.
I would have explored so much more.
I would never have said aishiteru in the way that I thought I meant it. Because…though I do love him. It’s not the kind of love I originally thought – you are a guide, and a wonderful friend, and I love you. But that’s it. Thank you for letting me see that.
I would have spent more time near the ocean, and more time in the mountains.
If here, I’d have been busy having a blast with my friends – because I know you really do like me, though I didn’t think that before. …thank you all, for being there for me.
I wish I could say I was drunk. But I’m not. I just needed to write this. …I would change very little about my past – because everything that has happened has ended in something wonderful. …thank you, my beloved friends, teachers, mentors, “crushes”, and new family. …you give me strength.
…but I am so tired.
And I blame you, Kristin. (But I still love you. And I know you’ll weasel out of the blame anyway.)
Goodnight.
