I find I usually get into disagreements–or, misunderstandings, with the men who love me. These men, really, are wonderful, true, devoted, understanding and more than willing to wait for me. I’ve avoided them like Penelope avoiding the suitors as she waited for Odysseus to return. I have no heroic lover going crazy to come home to me, yet, I make these men wait and wait.
Japan wasn’t a part of my life plan but since I’ve been here it’s changed my life. Japanese men never figured into my heart plan and like an acquired taste have become a little obsession. No, I mean, frustration.
In my time there have been two who were angels but for some silly reason nothing matured: timing, too much travel, selfishness. There has been one who has driven me crazy as I submitted to his every whim and inconsistency until I had to snap out of it. And, each day, I fall into a little stupor, a little crush, as I find myself more attracted to the men around me who may never know me.
I can provide excuses for the men who love me. Like a coquette I can be evasive while being attractive. Yet, for this unique specimen of the Samurai variety it’s another game. Other foreign men have given me tips and step-by-step plans but I prefer a more organic approach to friendship and love.
Lately, because I think I want to stay here longer, I feel that learning the language will enable me to have deeper friendships with Japanese people. For the most part Japanese women are heaven sent. Perhaps, I’m a ladies man. Regardless, I want to know more about the culture and have my own special Japanese friends and/or lovers.
So many unbelievable things have happened to me here. More than I could have ever dreamed. True love cannot be purchased. And loving others–romantically or platonically–can be challenging as well as rewarding. While I’m not sure when my soul mate–Japanese or not–will show up, I can only remember what two friends said. Find somebody who will love me for me. And, it doesn’t matter who I love: it’s who loves me that matters most.