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Back This Time Will Be Different Save as PDF
Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part I
  6. 3
  7. The History of My Beef with Brynn Foer-Preston
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part I
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part I
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part II
  20. 13
  21. The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part II
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. 16
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. The Complicated History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Imaginary Relationship with Her Nonexistent Dad
  29. 20
  30. 21
  31. 22
  32. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part III
  33. 23
  34. 24
  35. 25
  36. A Brief, Backward History of the McAllister Family, as Paraphrased from the San Jose Mercury News
  37. 26
  38. 27
  39. 28
  40. A Quick and Eerily Relevant History of Asians in America
  41. 29
  42. 30
  43. 31
  44. 32
  45. 33
  46. 34
  47. 35
  48. 36
  49. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part IV
  50. 37
  51. 38
  52. 39
  53. 40
  54. 41
  55. 42
  56. 43
  57. 44
  58. A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part II (Or Maybe It’s a Prequel)
  59. 45
  60. 46
  61. 47
  62. 48
  63. 49
  64. 50
  65. 51
  66. 52
  67. 53
  68. The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part III
  69. 54
  70. A Note from the Author
  71. Index of Flowers and their Meanings
  72. Acknowledgments
  73. About the Author
  74. Praise for This Time Will Be Different
  75. Books by Misa Sugiura
  76. Back Ad
  77. About the Publisher

I was thrilled when he asked me to be his girlfriend, and we texted constantly for about three weeks. Hannah took us to the movies on a Saturday afternoon, and there may have been some sweaty, awkward handholding toward the end. He broke up with me the day before graduation. His friends reportedly told him that as my boyfriend he was expected to buy me a present (I’d gotten him a Golden State Warriors snapback), and I guess he couldn’t handle that level of commitment. I was hurt and confused and angry, plus I was now stuck with this stupid Warriors hat. To be honest, though, I was also a little bit relieved. All that texting had started to feel like a chore, and anyway, Ryan was a terrible speller.

What I learned: Keep your receipts, because many stores don’t accept returns without them.

Sophomore Year: Andy Catalano (Emily’s cousin’s best friend)

Andy and I randomly started following each other on social media via Emily. A few likes and a lot of DMs later, Andy invited me and Em to see him perform some comedy at an open mic, where he totally killed it. Afterward, Emily went home, and I went back to Andy’s house to make out—I mean, hang out. Andy was a senior, his texts were hilarious and correctly spelled, and I felt incredibly sophisticated and lucky to be his girlfriend.

Things got pretty serious pretty quickly, and with Mom and Hannah both working, it was easy for Andy and me to start having sex—my decision, by the way, after months of saying “No, not yet.” Andy never pushed me to do it; I just felt like it was time. Or maybe curiosity got the best of me. Real talk, though: after all that waiting, all that buildup, the actual sex part was disappointing. On our first attempt, I cracked a joke to ease the tension and collapsed into giggles so debilitating that we had to call it off. And it never did stop feeling kind of awkward and comical to me. I mean, come on. The mechanics are completely ridiculous.

It was a little like our relationship, actually. Not that Andy was disappointing—he was great. But I kept waiting to feel like I was in love with him, and it never happened. How do you go out with someone for months, spend all that time together holding hands, laughing, making out on the couch, having sex, even talking about the future (he was going to Northwestern)—and never once feel . . . whatever it is you’re supposed to feel? I didn’t feel like I was finally home when I was in his arms. I didn’t feel like I’d been waiting my whole life for him. I didn’t feel like he could see into my soul.