We spent amazing times together during my last month in Yamagata. With about 4 weeks left to work, my manager made me use my remaining vacation days before I lost them. I decided to spend a day exploring the prefecture a bit, maybe make the three-hour train ride down to Nikko to explore the ancient complex of temples and shrines.
Since Matt didn’t have any more vacation days left, I was on my own. I told Yoshi this and about how lonely the trip was going to be without Matt, how nervous but excited I was to travel on my own. After I gave him some lighthearted teasing about him coming along, he surprised me by offering to join me. I was overcome with joy at the prospect; by this time, it was obvious to me, and those few people close to me, how in love I was with Yoshi. But though I silently pursued him in my mind, I was far from being able to come out and tell him directly. I was left in a pining wasteland.
We decided to take a road trip and spend the day touring Nikko. I was beside myself with the idea of spending an entire day in the presence of the man who owned my heart, despite his seeming obliviousness of that fact. He picked me up in the Lexus truck that had taken us everywhere, from Akita for sightseeing to Zao for midnight onsens. I blithely ran down the stairs from my apartment to greet him.
As we drove off, I thought myself the luckiest person in the world. We drove first to a rest stop that carried a special Japanese sweet, and featured stunning views of Miyagi and Yamagata-ken. We bought a box of the treats, mochi filled with a special type of anko, or sweet bean paste, this time a black, sticky concoction which neither of us particularly liked. We stopped for a smoke and to take in the incredible landscape, filled with blue skies, fluffy clouds and green hills of varying hues dotted with small towns.
We left the rest stop and continued to Nikko, about three hours away. As we drove down the highway, Rosie, my best friend from back home, happened to call me. I spoke excitedly with her for a few minutes and then handed the phone to Yoshi. I wanted someone to witness the man I was so thoroughly in love with. They joked a bit on the phone and he handed it back to me. Rosie was laughing, commenting on how surprised she was that his voice was so deep and unexpectedly manly. She heard what I heard in him every day. I was so happy that she had a chance to glimpse into my world, so foreign to my world at home.
The conversation during the drive down was amazing. We spoke of familial responsibilities, race in America, class in Japan, poverty, politics, our hopes for the future. It was all so natural and comfortable and I felt myself growing more attached to him with each passing hour.
We arrived in Nikko and found parking. As we approached the temple complex, it started to drizzle lightly, adding to the melancholy atmosphere of the ancient complex. We walked among the crowded temples and monuments, stopping to admire the ornate structures and to take lighthearted pictures. Yoshi was my tour guide, detailing the importance and purpose of each building. He was a terrific student of history and he provided insight into the stories of the place. I would often stop just to watch him examine some detail, his head cocked and hands folded behind his back. His demeanor was always one of contemplative peace.
After we explored the temple complex, we hopped in his truck and headed for an Asia-themed resort about an hour away from Nikko. Yoshi had been there before and wanted me to try out one of the restaurants. First, though, we wandered along the pathways that led to different countries’ shops, from Vietnam to Thailand. Each shop was designed to look like a marketplace from its country, with a myriad of products, from brightly colored silks to furniture to clothes. Yoshi bought a patterned cloth and a Thai tee shirt. I bought a bracelet and a Thai scarf, based on his recommendation. I treasured that scarf.
The restaurant where he wanted to eat was closed by the time we got there, so we hit the road in search of another. We looked through his Nikko brochure and found an Italian place nearby. We were so hungry when we arrived that we ordered way too many dishes, filling the table with plates of food. During dinner, I had to ask him about the stares I noticed we’d been getting all day. I asked him if they bothered him, what people thought about him going around with a giant gaijin woman. He smiled to himself and said that the strongest reaction he got was panic when someone was afraid they wouldn’t understand me and vice versa. Other than that, he said, he didn’t really notice or pay attention to other people’s reaction to us.
We left the restaurant laden with food and geared up for the long ride home. The day had gone almost perfectly, better than I could ever have hoped. We had the one-on-one conversation that I had been craving for months. The conversation on the long, dark ride home turned toward relationships and our experiences. It was then that I learned of his last girlfriend, the one who bought him his truck. I learned of his fear of the massive responsibilities that marriage would mean for him, the reason why he stayed single for so long. We got to talk about everything I always wanted to go into with him and we both seemed contented as we rode along. However, for me there remained a lingering question that I could not let pass, that I had to ask of him.
I took several deep breaths to help me build up the courage to say what I needed to say. I tried to say it, but stumbled on my words.
“Yoshi…I…” I stammered.
“Are you saying something?” he said.
“Yoshi I…I feel something.”
“What is that?”
“Yoshi…I like you.”
“What?”
“I said I like you”. I stared with intent at his profile. He glanced over to me and kind of smiled, but looked baffled.
“You mean some kind of love something?” he asked. I laughed at his choice of words. “Yes. I guess so,” I bashfully replied.
He was silent for a moment. Then he smiled and laughed a bit in obvious confusion. “Didn’t you know? Couldn’t you see?” I asked. He stammered and replied, “No, I didn’t. I didn’t know.”
“I’ve felt this way for a long time, but I have never been brave enough to tell you.” I was holding my breath this whole time, in tense anticipation of his answer.
He finally spoke, a heaviness in his voice. “I didn’t know. I couldn’t see. But you know we cannot be together. It is impossible.” He then went on to list the reasons that blocked any possibility of us getting together. His family, his age, his community, his real and perceived responsibilities. All strong reasons for him. All a matter of honor in the end.
My head fell a bit and I quietly answered, “I know.”
“Are you OK?” he asked gently. I took a moment to gather my thoughts and breathe through the disappointment. Then, I set my resolve, my resolve to see these feelings through, feelings I strongly suspected were mutual on some level.
“OK.” I began, “I know why we cannot be together forever, but I would at least like to explore these feelings I have for you and maybe you have for me. We can still be friends, no matter what happens. I just want to try to be more than friends.”
After a moment, he understood my meaning. He answered, sadness filling his words, “No. This never works. You get feelings, you feel more and more. But nothing can happen. I have tried this with other women and it doesn’t work. You always feel.” He answered so emphatically that I knew this must have of happened to him before, that he had lost friends because of it. I wanted to reassure him that this would not be what would happen to us.
I was too far gone and too wrapped up in him to let it go, however. “Look, Yoshi. I know that we cannot be together, get married. I know that you have responsibilities. I know that I’m leaving soon and I cannot be your girlfriend. But I also know how much I feel about you. I will always have you as a friend, no matter what happens between us. I just want to take the time we do have and see what happens if we were more than friends. If we…”, I couldn’t go on. I simply stared at his profile and waited for him to look at me. He knew I was looking and he smiled slightly. He finally turned around and looked at me to confirm that he understood.
I gave him a look with intent, a look that is known universally. I took a deep breath and took the risk of doing something that I had been craving to do for months. I reached out and placed my hand on his knee. I smiled at him and he stared straight ahead, the traces of a smile on his bemused face, his eyes narrowed and blinking. I then noticed how fast the car had started to go. He was distracted by the thought, at least. He kept raking his fingers through his thick hair.
I took my hand off his leg and smiled at him. Then I sat back in my chair, looked ahead and asked, “So what do you think?” I asked him. I paused then, smiling to myself. “You know,” I said, “you make me feel like a schoolgirl. I can’t control my emotions around you.”
He took his time answering. We were nearing the city’s edge by then, the end of our day and our long drive looming ahead. “You are a good person and I am so happy you are my friend. I just cannot be your boyfriend, I think. It is impossible.”
“I didn’t say you had to be my boyfriend, Yoshi.” I interrupted, still set on getting even closer to him, even if just physically. “I said I would like to do more with you than be only your friend. I know how things are and I know we can’t have more than a few weeks. But it’s a risk, a danger I really want to take.”
He continued to stare ahead. After a moment, he looked over at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t identify, then back to the road. He did this again, then again. I was smiling at him the whole time. “OK.”, he finally sighed. “OK.” He was putting the issue to rest for the evening, indicating he didn’t know what to do about it all.
Then, he surprised me, saying, “You are lucky. You have the world ahead of you. You can go anywhere you want to. I cannot. This is my life in Yamagata. I must take care of my responsibilities… it is difficult sometimes,” he said softly, his downcast face in a slight grimace.
I could see the internal struggle he was going through. He was so obviously torn between the iron-clad duties expected of him and the chance to explore the freedom that some kind of relationship with me would bring to his life.
I didn’t know what to say and my heart ached for him so much, I reached out my hand halfway between us. He smiled, looked me in the eyes, and took my hand and we rode in silence, hand in hand, all the way back to my apartment. Once we arrived at my building, we turned to face each other.
“Well, goodnight,” he said, in his usual friendly yet abrupt manner.
“Thank you so much for today, Yoshi. It meant so much to me,” I said. “And I meant what I said. I want to be more than a friend to you. But I won’t bother you.” I went to open the door, but paused for a moment. On impulse, I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
He was somewhat surprised, but amused. “Like a school girl,” he said and he smiled at me to let me know it was OK.
“What you said took courage. I do not have that kind of courage. I am not brave,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being honest. Thank you for telling me.” With that, he unlocked the doors and said goodnight again.
My heart full, I hopped down from his truck and made my way to my door. I turned around and gave him one last smile and wave goodbye. He waved back and waited to see me in my apartment.
unrequited 