Anyone who knows me knows that sometimes I don’t really know what I want. Or what I don’t want. And that Fomo is really in my life here and there.
Haha.
Sandro is a little different. Certainly. Maybe braver. At least he knows he wants potatoes. I don’t want one (probably). We’ve talked about it before. Then we dropped the subject and now it’s back. And teases us. It teases me.
Anyway, Sandro’s desire to have children has been so great lately that he tells me his heart aches at the thought of not becoming a father. He emphasizes that this is not just any child. He says he wants one with me. Only me. That the desire has been there for a long time. But he is getting stronger and no longer knows how to deal with it.
In the meantime, I don’t feel like eating potatoes. So minimal here and there. I love the idea. But when I look at the reality of my friends with potatoes, I don’t want to trade places with anyone.
We could do it differently, says Sandro. Not so conventional. We can live as a family as we want. Travel around the world in a van as a digital nomad. Or so.
Every time Sandro suggests something like this, I’m immediately hooked. Then the flame goes out and I don’t want it anymore. Or I’m scared. Hard to say. But what I do know is that there is nothing that all my friends craved for potatoes ten years ago. So not nothing. Just very little.
Sandro suggests relationship therapy. So a meeting. An outside professional opinion on how to deal with such a, sorry, nonsense situation.
So twelve days later we see a relationship therapist who came highly recommended to us. Sandro and I are of course sitting on a black leather couch. She is of course sitting on a black armchair. There are pictures of fruit on the walls. Still life or something. I do not like that. But I’m not here for art or furniture.
She wants to know what our concern is and what our goal is. I laugh out loud for the first time. I always have to do that if I’m not sure. “Keep yourself together, Ems,” Sandro says.
The therapist starts with her notes. She will probably advise us to break up quickly.
Sandro describes our conflict.
Then we can say what we like about each other, what we don’t like, how our communication is going, what our ideas for the future look like. Sandro paints a clear picture. One that reminds me of the Happy Family Toffifee advert from the 90s.
I say I think that’s sweet. And then I say that I can imagine everything. And that I always see happy potatoes running around everywhere. And then not again. That today I want to move to the country and grow XL zucchini. That a short time later I never want to change anything again because today everything is so beautifully perfect.
Then I want to save seals again. Or become a prison guard as a career changer.
Sandro rolls his eyes. The therapist raises her right eyebrow as she writes and writes and writes.
Ultimately, she suggests that “You, Emma, maybe come a few times without Sandro”.
OK.
Wow.
It feels like detention from the past.
Anyway. We do. Come time comes advice. Comes potato or not.
Yes, yes, I will do it too.
It’s okay if I check in there a few times myself.
I also have Ufzgi. I should randomly write down all the thoughts I have when I think about potatoes.
What can I say? Good luck, dear therapist. And good luck, dear users.
Source: Watson

I am Dawid Malan, a news reporter for 24 Instant News. I specialize in celebrity and entertainment news, writing stories that capture the attention of readers from all walks of life. My work has been featured in some of the world’s leading publications and I am passionate about delivering quality content to my readers.