Impulsive might be my middle name. I like to do whatever comes to my head without thinking ‘what if’. Screw what ifs, I’ll deal with those later. That’s what I always think at the beginning of doing something impulsive.

Lucky for me, he usually goes along with my crazy impulsive ideas. Even better, the crazy ideas sometimes come from him. I remember the night when we talked about which had the better pancakes, Nanny’s Pavillion or Pancake Parlour, and one of us (I really forget who did this), suddenly blurted out, “Let’s have some pancakes!”

So that night, we drove to Nanny’s Pavillion, after a heated argument whether we should eat at Nanny’s Pavillion or Pancake Parlour. I remember I skipped a weekly meeting because I was dying to buy some time with him. Anyway, we talked about many things that night. He told me about his childhood (which turned out to be his juvenile era), and I told him about mine. We talked about what we wanted to do after we graduate. I don’t remember the exact words we said that night, but here’s more or less the conversation we had that somehow had stuck hard on me and made me think about it until this very second.

Him: I want to work in this industry, and living in Germany.

Me: On the contrary, I so don’t want to work in this industry. I hate it here. I’ve realized that this is not my passion, and there’s no way I’m gonna live the rest of my life doing something I don’t like.

Him: So what are you gonna do?

Me: It’s still blurry for me, but I’m thinking about writing books and having a bookstore. I love reading, I love writing, and I’m gonna do what I love.

Him: You want to do what you love, that’s alright. But have you ever thought of loving what you do?

Up until now, I’m still thinking about that. I want to love what I’m doing right now, but what if I can’t?