2 Questions Every Girl is Asking Herself

Chapter 45

It's my last day in Tianjin and I'd like to see Hong Wang.

I need to see Hong Wang.

He's in Beijing, and it's an awful hassle to see him in such a time crunch. But I don't care. I'm going to see him. I'll completely reshuffle my schedule if I have to. I'm going to see him.

If he's free for lunch, I'll make a trip to Beijing just for lunch. If he's free for dinner, I'll cancel all my plans, pack my stuff, lug my luggage on the train, have dinner with him, then find a hotel, spend the night (by myself), and head to the airport directly the next day. Whatever his schedule, I'll accommodate.

Besides, I have to give him that bottle of wine from murky town. I've got presents to deliver and missions to accomplish. Yo!

Excuses aside, I'll admit, it is an unreasonable amount of work just to see an elementary school friend who is permanently stationed an ocean away from Canada, with no hope in the foreseeable future of closing that gap. Still, I fantasized a possible future with him. I imagined I could somehow move back to China. I'll find a job in Beijing – 

Then my logic caught up with my imagination and stopped it there. Quite frankly, I have trouble justifying why I'm bending over backwards just to see an unavailable man one last time. Or what I plan to say to him when I do see him. Or the likelihood he'll break up with his girlfriend and date me instead. I'm not even sure I want to take the responsibility of his break-up with his perfectly fine girlfriend to pursue a risky, wobbly, long distance relationship with me.

In between my trips across China, I had a serious discussion with grandma during one of our girl talks over tea. During which, grandma expressed her approval of Hong Wang, him being a "trustworthy-looking young man" and the fact we know his family means we know his "roots". She advised seriously, "Hong Wang has a girlfriend. And you don't have much time," and that doesn't leave me with many options but to, "go confess".

"Seriously grandma, did you just say confess?!"

But then again, maybe I'm lucky to have just about anyone who'll consider me, or to confess to in this instance. For someone who's dark-skinned, poorly domesticated, quickly approaching thirty, and incapable of making dumplings, perhaps I'm really not such a hot piece of cake to the taste of the Chinese. Grandma did try to "hook" me up with an auntie's nephew, an eligible bachelor on assignment in South Africa, at her birthday banquet, as she promised (grandma's a woman of her words). Originally they had intended this guy for my cousin in Japan, who's three years younger than me and way more domesticated than me. She is neat and tidy, efficient at arranging her things, makes her father breakfast in the morning. On top of all that, she's an up-and-coming architect. She probably knows intuitively how to use aunt's washing machine. (In my defense, that machine's Made in Japan). They long-distanced for six months, then my cousin lost interest and called it quits. So now it's my turn. I don't mind being second in line. I'm open to meeting new people. He could be a great guy. I smile and bat my eyelashes sweetly at auntie, and tell her how delighted I'd be to meet him.

I never even got to see the guy's picture.

Maybe it's time I acquired some new skills and started taking matters into my own hands, like – confessions. Tim told me to confess. Grandma told me to confess. They must be right. Right?

Now confessions are a risky and embarrassing business. Something I've never done before. For good reasons. I'm a wait-and-see-what-happens kind of girl when it comes to dating. I wait for the guy to call, to ask me out, to make the first move, to make plans for dinner. Not because I'm afraid of rejection, (ok maybe a little, but then again guys rarely reject girls), but because guys will often accept girls for the sheer flattery of it, or out of politeness, or simply because of how rarely it happens. It isn't an indication of how much he likes the girl, or is even remotely interested. I firmly believe if a guy cares enough, he'll take the initiative. If he doesn't take the initiate, then he doesn't really like you. Work against this rule, you are asking for heartache and disappointment. It's my own home-made love insurance policy. And it has kept me safe so far.

And now I'm about to break my own rule. I'm about to call a guy who's made me wonder, who has a girlfriend he plans to marry, who lives six thousand miles away, who never initiates contact unless it is to tell me about other women, and who rejected my offer to have ice cream.

I pick up the phone and call him anyway.