Weekend is practically over = new chapter.

Truly excited for what is coming next!

Thanks for reading! Feel free to review.

Best, w.


FEBRUARY

(1)

I don't know how we got to the topic, but Mia and I started discussing weather in Somalia. I didn't know anything about the climate there – minus what I remembered from school – and certainly didn't know what to think about it. I didn't feel like discussing it, either, but this was Mia. I would read a telephone book with that girl and still worship every second – or, better yet, every name.

And so I used google, looked up some information, and tried to sound knowledgeable while writing the email. I hoped the excessive use of long words and terms would hide my act.

First days of the months were warm, such a contrast to the chilly winter. One sunny afternoon I decided I would ditch gym for a quick jogging hour around Tsukuba. Which, as it turned out, was a huge mistake.

An icy patch on the sidewalk somehow managed to survive the warming temperatures. My head was in springing clouds, and I managed to miss it. The next thing I knew, I lost footing and ended face-first on the ground.

It took me a second or two to comprehend what had just happened. I touched my face to see if I was bleeding. I wasn't; only my hands were slightly scratched.

But when I tried to get up, I realized I didn't survive the fall completely unharmed. I couldn't put my weight on my right ankle.

I cursed and somehow managed to limp back to my apartment. The way I kept leaning on the walls as I was ascending the stairs made me feel like I was a drunk stumbling home.

I put a cold compress on my ankle, hoping it would numb my leg enough to stop hurting. It didn't. Half an hour later it still hurt as much as it did before. I called Henry and cancelled the session, instead heating myself a dinner in the microwave, spending the evening watching cheap reality shows.

The next morning my ankle wasn't mysteriously cured, but I refused to let it stop me from my daily routine. I arrived at the lab late, at least to my standards, but I might as well just stay home. I couldn't stand on my leg for long periods of time, I was taking a shameful amount of breaks. I was feeling useless for most of the time. I couldn't focus on the work because of the pain, and I hated myself for it. I tried to block everything out, but it caused the work to suffer. In the end I realized it was best for me to just sit and oversee my team. I was so frustrated I even annoyed myself.

On the third day I gave it to Midori's persuasion and went to see a doctor.

"It's not broken," he said, "it is just sprained. It should get better in a few days. Don't put too much weight on too soon. Come back if it doesn't get any better in about a week."

Playing the guitar was something I could do without standing up. Henry was ecstatic to have me over more often. With more regular and more intense practice, we started to sound better. We actually sounded great.

He was, though, less happy about my saying no to girls he often brought home from work.

"Oh, come on, we're rockstars!" he kept repeating, usually while making out with two of them simultaneously.

"Didn't you say we were just messing around a bit?" I reminded him, not really sure of where to look at. There was Tim smoking joints in the corner, Akira doing something that resembled meditation, while Johan was talking on his phone in what I presumed was loud Swedish. A bunch of girls was mixing cocktails in the kitchen and some of them were flipping through Tim's collection of records. I never felt more college-like, I swear. It was fucking hilarious.

"Well, exactly," Tim grinned. "This place is sacred. No one outside of these walls will ever know about it, if there is someone you don't want to hear about it."

I had no one waiting on me. A few months back I wouldn't hold myself back. I would feel no reservations at the girls winking, flirting with me. It would be just another way for me to get away from issues I hadn't dared to deal with. Back then I wouldn't feel anything, it wouldn't matter anything.

Maybe the circumstances hadn't changed much for me. I still had no one waiting on me, neither in Tsukuba nor in New York. But now I had new hope – I had a hope of getting someone back. Sure, my sleeping with anyone here might not change the future for us, after all, we were broken up, but it simply wouldn't feel right, not with the hope I was carrying in my heart now. I was completely devoted to my future, I was totally loyal to someone I didn't technically had right now, but I loved her with all my heart, I was reinventing myself, making myself better for the future we would hopefully have after I would finish the damn arm and returned home. She might not know it yet, but I was doing everything I could do to make everything I had hoped and thought of before coming here a reality. Sleeping with someone was never part of the plan and now that I had myself again, despite knowing it would feel good, I knew it wouldn't feel right.

And so I just walked out of Tim's place. Honestly, I doubted he even noticed.

On my way home I stopped at the music store. I couldn't play forever on Tim's spare guitar, so I bought myself a new one. Till three in the morning I kept playing, songs I was hearing on the radio, classics, some of my own songs from the Skinner Box days. I played everything I could think of, trying to catch up on the lost time. Two songs kept invading my mind, but I resisted playing them. It wouldn't feel right without her near to hear it.


Towards the end of the month, my Japanese mentor came to see the progress. Until then I thought the work was progressing well, but his gloomy expression said it all.

"We thought we would have something solid by the summer," he explained. "With this tempo, I am not so certain anymore. Don't get me wrong, it is coming along nicely, but maybe I just expected it to be a bit faster."

For a second I actually thought he would cancel the whole project. I knew he was overseeing many other projects, many just as ambitious and risky ones as my surgical arm, and I had no doubt it cost him and his university a great deal. They couldn't afford paying for something that wasn't working out.

I knew it had nothing to do with this, but I still cursed myself for going running that day. If I could stand properly, maybe I could do a bit more work, get a bit ahead of schedule …

I couldn't return to New York without robotic arm. I simply couldn't, there was no way. It would make me look like a failure, like a royal failure. My lack of future would pretty much be cemented by this project blowing. That would be something I would never, ever forgive myself for.

I didn't even know what to say. He beat me to it, though.

"You know what I think you need?" he asked.

"No, sir."

"Have you even been home since coming here?" he asked. I didn't understand why he changed the subject. My family was the last thing on my mind now that my project might be circling the drain.

"No, and I am planning on going home till..."

"Well, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing," he shrugged.

"I can't go home, I have so much work to do here," I protested. "You just said, we are running behind…"

"I have been here since we started working," Midori for some reason jumped in. "I can lead the team."

"No offense, son, but you look like you could use a break."

I argued that we could use a pair of hands, especially with the deadline nearing. I knew I wasn't sounding believable, but I couldn't tell them the true reason why I feared going home. Sure, it would be nice to see my family, my friends, but it would also bring along so many questions. It was easy, ignoring question via email, but in person? You can only change a subject so many times before it gets obvious you re hiding something.

I didn't want to talk about Mia. I didn't want to tell anyone about our breakup – I kept the details of that night hidden, though I wasn't sure how many people found out from her. I certainly didn't want to hear how sorry everyone was feeling for me, or answer their questions about what I was about to do next.

And I definitely wasn't up to telling anyone I was getting her back, one way or another. People thought I was crazy for dating a princess, being a commoner and all, people thought I would never finish robotic arm, Japan or not. I didn't need any other reason to be declared insane. Without anyone telling me I knew how easily I could end up with nothing – with no robotic arm and no Mia.

But I refused to think that way.

"Well, if you insist so much on doing some work," mentor said, "why don't you start working on the paperwork for your company while in New York? I presume you want your company to be based there, right? You are not planning on staying in Japan after finishing the device?"

"My company?" I repeated. "Isn't still early for that?"

I was so sure it was early I hadn't even started thinking of a possible name.

"It is never too early, son. Trust me, once you get this thing finished, everything will be happening very, very fast for you. You might even have problems realizing what you have done."

And so plans were made for me to fly back to New York the following weekend. The closer we got to the date, the more skeptical I got. I didn't want to leave my team, despite knowing Midori would be as good of a leader as me. I knew I could start the paperwork for my company via email and internet without a problem. But I knew that despite New York being a big city, no matter how huge Manhattan actually was, I could easily bump into Mia there.

And as excited as I got just thinking about it, just imagining how good it would feel, seeing her, being so close to her, undoubtedly seeing her cheek get redder and redder, not for a good reason, though, I knew it was still too soon. We could hide our true feelings – whatever hers were – via email while writing about Somalia or whatever, but it wouldn't work as flawlessly in person. I might believe, now, that I wouldn't feel any resentment when seeing her. But in person, my emotions and my mind might do funny things – I knew I still didn't trust myself enough to face her, knowing for sure I wouldn't explode at the memory of the last time I had seen her – actually, make that last two moments. While I might be on my way to something great, to being something more than a commoner, the truth was, I still was one. I still had nothing to show.

And, of course, then there was fear she might not even want to see me.

And that fear was killing me more than anything.

It was almost as if Midori knew what I was thinking.

"You don't have to see her if you don't want to," she laughed at my insecure face. I felt so silly for being so fucking transparent. I was in Japan, working on my own, potentially life-saving device while still being twenty. I was fucking awesome and yet all it took to make me super insecure was one girl.

"And if you don't want to talk about her with anyone," she went on, "you don't have to."

"And what do I do if I happen to bump into her?"

She thought about it for a second.

"If I were you," she then said, "I would stay in most of the time."


I knew my Mom would be ecstatic to hear about my coming home, even if it was just for the weekend. I also knew that once I'd tell her, I would have no other choice but to truly go.

I delayed making the call until Thursday evening. As usual, Mom went on and on about her week, barely letting Dad say hi to me. I wasn't sure if Lilly was around. I had reassured Mom a while back we were back on speaking terms. It was a white lie; it made Mom feel better. Surely it wasn't easy for her, having a son in Japan and a rebellious daughter not talking to each other.

Twenty minutes into the conversation I k new it was time to say it.

"Listen, Mom, this is all great. I have something to tell you."

"Oh, really?" she said with a hopeful voice. I had told her, before leaving, I most likely wouldn't becoming home before summer, but she still hoped I would take a weekend off or something. I knew how disappointed she was when she didn't see me over Christmas break.

Well, now she was having her wish come true.

"Well, I have some time off this weekend…"

"Oh, my god!" she screamed before I even finished. "Did you hear that, Monti? Our son is coming home!"

I tried to explain it to her it was just for the weekend and that I would be back on the plane on Sunday afternoon, but with her all her screaming I doubted she heard much.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, though. Maya yelled to promise to make my favorite food for lunch on Saturday. Even Pavlov must have sensed something good was in the air, I heard them in the background.

Their joy was echoing in my mind for the rest of the day. I even felt the urge to get on the earlier plane, it seemed pointless to wait till Friday noon. And as I was thinking about how good it would feel, going for a run with Pavlov to Central Park again, I suddenly got an idea for the name of my company.

I loved Pavlov more than anything – well, Mia excluded –, plus, in some way his name was connected to medicine.

Pavlov Surgical.

It even sounded good.


To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.