Despite my claim at the top of this document, I have not written every day for at least twenty minutes. I suppose I had something I could have written about yesterday, but I simply didn’t feel like it. And that’s not quite the point, anyway. I don’t want to write in here only when I have “something to write about” but I want to force myself to write in here daily. That’s the only way I’ll ever get back to the journal-keeper that I once was — and I think I was a much healthier person when I was keeping my journal more regularly.

I had a thought yesterday about Lipnica and going back. I realized that what I’m more scared of is going back for a year and realizing there’s nothing there for me at all. I think that’s what Chhavi thinks will happen. And that is certainly the last thing I want, for if I go back and discover that what I’m looking for is not there, then I’ll be worse than “back to square one.” I think part of my frustration yesterday had to do with the fact that part of my life has recently splintered into millions of pieces and I’ve lost some things and it will take some time to pull everything back together — I’m speaking of my computer, of course, and its recent Windows 2000-induced nose-dive. That’s a relatively minor thing, and it’s simply an irritation that must be overcome. Yet last night I remember thinking, “I could work on some VB stuff, but I have to re-load Visual Studio, and I’ve lost all that source code I downloaded, and all my programs are now history.” So it’s not that I was thrown into some kind of depression over this — I was simply annoyed. Anyway, I imagine such a scenario multiplied many times in intensity and importance and I can only shudder as I imagine how difficult that would be to deal with: realizing that Lipnica has nothing for me; realizing that Chhavi might be back in India by that time; realizing that I threw away a seemingly “sure thing” for something that just didn’t work out.

Yet I did consciously use the word “seemingly” because of all these thoughts roaring through my head about having children. I’ll return to that later.

One thing I wanted to elaborate on from the previous paragraph is this: if I go back and discover that what I’m looking for is not there, then I’ll be worse than “back to square one.” I’m not even quite sure what it is I’m looking for. And that makes me somewhat hesitant to go back if I don’t know exactly what it is I’m seeking — there or anywhere for that matter. I just know that I’m not terribly happy here. And yet I think, “That’s exactly how you felt when you left Lipnica. That’s why you left Lipnica — you thought you’d find what you were looking for in the philosophy of religion program at BU. And that certainly didn’t happen.” This whole notion of being happy where you are and being content with what you have keeps haunting me. That is most definitely not what I’m doing now, though in the back of my head I have these stupid thoughts: “Once I get to Lipnica, then I’ll start living that way.” What a stupid thing to think —living an oxymoron.

So back to this “seemingly.” I’ve come to realize that I’ve have certain unconscious expectations about my life that have definite implications for what happens with Chhavi and me. I’m almost twenty-eight years old — and I thought that by now, certainly, I’d be married, and that within a year or so would be having at least one child. In other words, I thought that before I reached thirty I’d have a family. Well that’s certainly not going to be the case no matter what I do — and to be honest, I’m not ready for a family now. Not until I figure out what I want to do with my life. But Chhavi’s lack of interest in ever having kids, it doesn’t look like that’ll ever come to fruition. And so while a relatively minor assumption is being challenged at the moment (i.e., that I’d have a family before age thirty) is eclipsed by a larger, more significant one (i.e., that I’d have a family, period). So what I’ve got to do is decide whether I really want to have a child or not, and whether or not I’m willing to give that up in order to stay with Chhav. What are my alternatives? Break up and go out on the prowl again, so to speak. That’s not something I really want to do, to be honest — either break up or be out “looking” again. (I wasn’t “looking” when I found Chhav, and that’s why I found her, in part — so I’ve always told myself.) And once “freed” from monogamy, I’d want to explore that freedom a little. Sleep around a bit, in other words. It’s something I’ve always kind of wanted to do but never did — and then I’d have my chance. So I’d sleep around, maybe have a couple of years of fun. Then what?

One more thing I was thinking about yesterday, then I’ll stop. If I were to go back to Lipnica, it would certainly be nice to be able to have a place of my own (three possibilities occur to me: the old apartment, above Magda’s shop, and above the pharmacy, if they’ve built the house they’d mentioned they wanted to build), but in a way it might be better if I stayed with the Mastelas. The problem is money — I would want to pay them for room and board, but I’ve a feeling Mamo would not want me to. Perhaps I could make it that the school pays her directly and I could act as if I were completely ignorant. Who knows. Anyway, the reason this would be a good idea is in fact two-fold (or more). For one thing, I’d have someone to talk to and someone to help me with my Polish. Secondly, and in some ways more importantly, it would force me to focus on the work aspect of my life during the week because I couldn’t have people coming over all the time. It would be safe in another sense, too: less chance of me fucking around with someone in my own apartment. Screwing around would not be a bad thing, necessarily, but I wouldn’t want anything to happen with anyone from Lipnica unless I was sure I wanted to pursue it farther than a casual fuck.

Enough of that. I’m going to go read something now.