Saying goodbye

No one likes to say goodbye. But it has to be done every so often.

Living in a place like Japan that is very transient for foreigners, coming and going to and from their home country and other travels beyond Japan, we get used to saying goodbye to the friendships we make here. It's usually me saying goodbye to one person that leaves and not me saying goodbye to everyone in one big hit, but times are changing, wheels are turning and I'm moving on. Sadly, I had to do that one big hit goodbye to everyone last month. I left the Kansai region of Japan and headed to Thailand with the plan to be back in Kanto, Japan, to start a new page of my life a little over a month later.

The leaving process was surreal cause I could never really picture how it would happen and never even thought of doing it. I met friends for farewells and drinks. And more drinks and goodbyes. I cleaned out my apartment of five years and with my belongings I trashed all of them except 3 suits, some jeans, a couple of T-shirts and an electric guitar. Ready to start clean and fresh. Excited yet anxious.

One week before leaving I got a message out of the blue from my ex from over a year ago who I haven't really gotten over, the nailist, telling me that she heard I was on my way out. Although I wanted to just keep my head away from any thoughts of her, I had the overwhelming feeling to invite her for a coffee. Just an innocent, "Hey, whats going on? Konnichiwa. Genki?" sort of thing. If I could do this on a workday before I have to dash to the office in the afternoon then nothing too serious could transpire. And so it was. We met for coffee and she arrived in her usual head turning glamor... I got giddy and nervous talking to her. But it was no problem cause she had the situation under control. So at ease and calm and funny and charming and hot. And gorgeous. And hot. And cool.

Did I mention she was looking really hot? Well she was. Effortlessly hot. Agelessly hot. The kind of hot that isn't restricted to youth and doesn't contain any element of artificial additives (at least it appears that way to me, she says she makes a ton of effort behind the scenes). It's something that few individuals have. Think Catherine Zeta Jones or Salma Hayek but Asian and 28years old with long wavy hair and a modelesc figure.

I think there was a spark of chemistry there cause on the way to the station as we walked side by side our hands kind of bumped into each other. We kind of looked into each others eyes too long. Later she messaged me saying that she would be out drinking on Saturday night. If I were to be around then we should have one last drink. Sure, why not? What's one last drink?

I got off my final day of work in Kansai on Saturday to a bunch of missed calls from this 19 year old university student I've been kinda seeing. It's not really working out between us. The age gap is too obvious from my point of view. I don't really know how to put this... When she is with me she is like putty in my hands. Hang on. That expression carries the wrong connotation. That's a positive meaning, right? Like I'm a master artist and she moves and is remoulded to my whims, right? That's not what I mean at all. What I mean is that when we are in the bedroom she is like A HEAVY WET LUMP OF CLAY. Similar to putty in my hands but limp, lifeless, inexpressive and boring. Just drab. And such a huge fucking contrast to how she is when we are in public. There she is just gushing non-stop in her high twittery teenage voice about how cool I am and how lucky she is to be on a date with a cool guy like me since our levels are completely different. I'm high level, and she is a standard level, apparently... I appreciate the compliment but its embarrassing and weird. People don't have levels, we aren't computer games and what's making it worse is that you won't STFU about it. And how many dates have we been on? You're drawing too much attention to us in this quiet cafe and disturbing other people's meals and their conversations. Shut up and eat your pasta. It's al dente. You should enjoy that al dente creamy tomato shit. Silently.

Fo fucks sake.

What was I saying? Yeah, that's right. I had missed calls from her because I think we planned to meet up to say goodbye, but I had forgotten about it. I told her to meet up with me for a drink, but I couldn't stay long. When I met her she was being followed down the street by a dude doing Nampa on her. Of course I gave her shit about it and offered her the chance at flaking on me to go with that guy. She seemed pretty impressed with herself and giggled. I wasn't surprised that guys would try hitting on her with what she was wearing. Low cut top revealing her huge tits and a short skirt showing her long legs. She's pretty tall for a J-girl and has a very shapely figure. It suits her ditsy 2-dimensional character.

We had a drink and as I was saying goodbye we started making out in a street corner. Then we ended up bouncing to my apartment which is completely empty, bar one futon and an electric fan. Every time this happens with her I'm astonished at how a girl can have such an amazing body, but such crappy sex. She wants me to 'train' her. I don't want to 'train' shit. Most guys are into that shit but I'm not. "Hey little girl. I will be your sex master. Teach you the ways of love. Don't be shy." Give me a fucking break. I looked at my phone and noticed that I had a message from the nailist giving me her precise location and smiley heart emoticons asking where I was. With a younger, less cool version of you. A pitiful replacement really. I bid my farewell to the girl before my eyes and showed up to a bar where the nailist was drinking with her crew.

Obviously, I was pretty tired from having just been fucking, and I had been pretty damn busy all week packing up and getting ready to leave my entire life behind me, so I was down to just chill in the bar and drink beer and not really say too much. And it's a god damn good thing that I was feeling like that because some douche that was connected to her group came and did the gay J-guy-trying-to-get-lucky-move and announced, "I don't speak English! HAHAHA!" when he saw me, then bought drinks for the nailist and proceeded to hit on her for the rest of the evening while she happly played along completely ignoring me. I was wondering why she even invited me until it became clear that she was trying to do some jealousy ploy, which wasn't working cause the guy was clearly a douche, nothing to be jealous of there, and I had moments earlier just boned a hot 19 year old with huge tits.

Wow. Reading that back makes feel like I'm such a fucking sleazebag with a chip on my shoulder. I would try to convince you otherwise and try to make it seem like I'm the perfect gentleman, but screw that. We are all flawed in some way or another.

Nevertheless, I brushed my hand up against hers, and she mine. Under the table I accidentally rubbed her thigh. And she mine. And then, little by little, our hands were holding. Covertly. No one to be any the wiser... Except one of her friends who as she noticed dropped a glass of wine over the table spilling it on everyone. I had to get some paper towel to wipe down the nailist's hands and thigh...

The situation I was in and the foreigner oriented bar atmosphere was weighing on my patience. A girl that hot in a bar with foreign dudes in it is bound to bring about 'friends' of mine and strangers alike that wouldn't usually pay much notice to me until now they wanted to say hello and introduce themselves and ask who the girl is. Fuck this place sux.

"Nailist. Lets go for a walk."
"Sure."

The douche J-guy looks on in narrow eyed contempt with a spiteful expression while one of my 'friends' is hassling me about where I'm going. Away from you chumps. "You can't just leave. It's a party here." Why wouldn't you want me to leave this shit bar with a bitching hot chick? Fool.

The inside of my apartment is the same as it was when I left an hour or two earlier. Barren. Except I left the fan on and the door open to hopefully clear the sex smell in the air. We sit down cross legged on the single futon mattress with little to distract us except each other and I'm once again reminded of how amazing she can kiss and make love. 
 
Later she asks me if I was pissed off earlier in the bar when she wasn't talking to me. I just told her that it was a shame we couldn't talk more since I'm leaving tomorrow to never come back.

We smile and say goodbye.