2 Questions Every Girl is Asking Herself

Chapter 67

"I wouldn't even know what to say to something like that," Matt said in exasperation. Eyes wide, fingers rigidly extended like they are gripping invisible stress balls.

There was a pause.

Then he said, almost in a whisper, "I love you."

"Why are you suddenly saying that?" I asked.

"I just felt it."

This was the first time he'd ever said that to me. In my dream sequence of the various ways he's going to confess, this was the definitely not one of them. Randomly and anticlimactically. I had longed to hear him say this. Tears were involved when I said I loved him months ago and he didn't say it back.

"I'd given up waiting for you to say this," I said, "I guess I already felt loved."

***

In an effort to launch my freelance writing career, I began writing movie reviews, travel articles, short stories, front of book health and fitness tips for magazines, and sending them out for publication. Most of the time after I pressed "Send" they disappear into a black hole and I never hear about them again. I don't even remember how many pitch letters I've sent. Other times, I receive a generic rejection letter and my whole day is ruined.

One day in October, Dandan asked me to translate the first chapter of my book as a sample. I did so very obligingly. Because being bilingual is different from being a translator. I worried that I wouldn't be able to carry forth the humour and nuance I'd painstakingly crafted from English to Chinese. At the back of my mind, I also worried if this is the best way forward. Are they the right people to make it the best book it can be? Do they fully understand all the English? I felt mildly heartbroken that my story won't be read in English, in its original form, that all the work I put into developing the prose won't be seen by Chinese readers, and that my beautiful sentences will be lost in translation. But it's not like I had tons of publishing offers on the table. So I did my best with translating the sample chapter. Every word was chosen with care, and every sentence was written then rewritten many times. I can't remember how many times I'd rewritten the opening. It took me a week of tinkering until at last I was satisfied enough to show it to Dandan. She polished it up with some minor edits and we decided it was a great piece of work.

Then one afternoon only a few weeks later, Dandan messaged me on IM to tell me that the proposal for my book had been "gunned down" or killed (as the term goes in Chinese publishing). She was indignant as she wasn't even present at the meeting.

The next few days were quite hazy. I glided around the house feeling a dull pain in my chest. I surprised myself by how quickly I went from being iffy about the deal to being completely devastated by the loss of the deal.

Meanwhile, Matt had to leave for Brazil again.

I dropped him off at the airport and watched him disappear behind the opaque doors of the security gate. Then I turned around and let out a heavy sigh. I felt tired and empty. It's that emptiness you feel after having been incredibly busy and then that all-important, all-consuming thing that took up your every minute of every day, is suddenly gone. You're left with all this time on your hands and you don't know what to do with yourself. That kind of empty.

My feet took me almost of their own accord to a nearby Starbucks. I ordered a drink, climbed onto a stool, set my stuff down on the chair next to me, and blew on my cup of green tea.

Staring past the Native Indian sculpture in the middle of the airport concourse, I gazed blankly at the blue-green carpet and remembered a question people used to ask me:

"Do you miss consulting?"

A lot of people asked if I miss consulting, the guys I date especially. I suppose nowadays financial stability is not only an attractive trait in men, but in women as well.