When my dad asked me if I was happy I told him the truth. Here is the jist of it:

“No. I miss Chicago. I wasn’t supposed to come out here alone, I was supposed to have a loved one with me. We were supposed to teach English and travel the world together, and country hop and live everywhere and learn five languages, like the hippie named Sally and her husband who I met when I was six.”

“I don’t want to learn Chinese if it means I work in a big corporation for the rest of my life. I don’t like the foreign guys here because their egos are too big and the women here encourage it. I don’t want to dress nicer and wear make up to attract a man who works in a corporation and makes a lot of money. I don’t want to spend my savings on a Coach purse. I want to wear clothes with holes in them and dirty shoes with holes in them. And yeah I want more tattoos.”

I don’t know why I left Chicago. I have to be reminded that while I had a kickass job and more than a few swell friends, I wasn’t happy there either. What am I going to do after this year is over? What then? What’s next? Those are supposed to be exciting questions, not scary ones. Supposed to be.***

This might sound like a lot of complaining and it is. But moving to another country is so much harder than you would think my friends. I’m looking to my left, and now my right, and god Taipei is awfully lonely. I’ve had many amazing experiences but what’s the point if you don’t have anyone to share them with?

Other girls out here look at me with contempt in their eyes saying “Well, I can travel anywhere I want because I love myself and I’m so independent and you have to be more independent and I can’t believe you aren’t doing this like me. Look at me and look at how I don’t need anyone.” Good for you, but I like people, and I don’t want to do this alone.

What’s with all this regret? I don’t know. I am regretting a lot of things at the moment. And it’s not supposed to be*** this way.