memories 6
Out of the blue, she suddenly asked to meet. After disappearing for three months, she suddenly sent a message, asking if she could come over that evening.
I was already getting used to being without her. I wanted to say no, but said yes.
I went to the supermarket to get some groceries for dinner.
She came at seven. I made dinner as she sat on the sofa, wordless.
She suddenly asked, “Can I play this CD?”
I turned my head. It was the new Silbermond single I had picked up. Das Beste. I nodded.
The music came on and I ladled the spaghetti on to the plates. I brought the plates over to the table. “Dinner’s ready.”
That was when I noticed the tears on her face. She wiped them away quickly when she realised I was looking. She managed a smile. “It’s a very nice song. First time I ever heard it. I don’t know when I would, or if I would even be able to hear it again. And if I do, I wonder what kind of feelings would I be carrying with me at that moment in time?”
**
10 December 1999
I have been ignoring you. I am sorry about that. But it hurts me a lot that you are leaving. You asked me to leave with you, but I am really not prepared. You might have been able to adapt to life here easily, but it wouldn’t be the same for me. I am not confident about living in Japan. What can I do there?
There are just too many differences. Asians are very different from us Europeans. Just look at you and me. You are always so focused, going all out, like you don’t know how to relax. I am always the one with the laidback attitude, taking things easy.
But it really hurts me a lot that you are leaving just like that.
But what do I want from you?
I don’t even know.
What right do I have to complain then?
**
Kae came back into my life. As though nothing had ever happened. Like before, I never asked much.
**
15 December 1999
I know I have been trying to run away. But now, when I am trying to turn back, you become the one running away, not picking up my calls, not replying my messages. Your curtains are drawn, you don’t answer the doorbell.
We are like two people who don’t need each other anymore: two people cutting away the string tying them together.
So why don’t you walk away?!
I...I think we are only hurting ourselves.
**
16 December 1999
You are probably somewhere over Central Asia now.
Maybe before you left, you had tried one last time to contact me. I wished.
But just in case, I made sure I was at work then.
Maybe it’s better like this. To give ourselves no chance at all. Put ourselves at the point of no return. A short intense pain, rather than prolonged agony.
Nothing lasts forever, I finally realise.
You have always known what you want. There is no place for me in your future.
And just like that, it ended with no chance of saying goodbye.
**
24 December 1999
It’s his birthday today. Unlike last year, he’s probably in Tokyo, while I am on my couch, watching a comedy in Spanish, in a language I don’t even understand.
I laugh at first, laughing at everything. Even though I don’t understand a single thing.
Then, my laughter turns into tears.
I am crying as I am writing this now.
God, I have never cried for a guy before. I must really, really love him a lot. A lot, a lot, a lot.
**
25 December 1999
It snowed today. Outside my window. I opened my window and marvelled at the falling snowflakes. They weren’t big, but they were still snow.
I just had an impulse to shout. In Japanese.
“It’s snowing! 25 December 1999. Cologne. It’s so pretty, isn’t it?
“Hey, are you watching?”
Merry Christmas, Kazuki.
**
“Sophie, why don’t you handle him? He looks Asian. Maybe he can’t speak much German.”
I shrugged. Not all Asians are Japanese, and Japanese and Chinese are rather different languages. Anyhow, I went forward to the customer.
“Hallo! My name is Sophie. Do you speak German?”
“A little.”
“All right. Please follow me.”
He nodded. I led him to an empty chair and asked in Japanese, “Pardon me for asking, but are you Japanese?”
He smiled and replied in Japanese, “I am not. But I grew up in Tokyo, so I speak Japanese.”
“Oh. So, you are...”
“I am Korean. You speak very good Japanese. Where did you learn it from?”
“I spent a year in Tokyo.”
“Study?”
“Well, in terms of hairstyling, yes,” I laughed.
We chatted in Japanese as I cut his hair. His name is Woo Suk, and he didn’t really know why he was in Cologne. He was learning German, and working at a Japanese restaurant. In many ways,
he reminded me of myself. And him.
Cutting Woo Suk’s hair was like cutting his hair.
**
After getting my haircut, I went home, because my landlord had invited me to his house for dinner. Even though I have been living in my present room for 11 months or so, this was the first time I was stepping into his apartment. He led me up the stairs to the dining area. There were many photographs along the wall. I stopped to take a closer look. He noticed me stopping and stopped as well.
“Those are my kids and grandchildren.”
“Oh...how many children do you have?”
“Three. Two boys and a girl. All much older than you, of course.”
“Is this your daughter?” I pointed out.
He nodded. “Yes, that is my daughter. She used to stay in your room. Oh, she speaks Japanese too.”
“What is her name?”
“Sophie. My eldest son is Stefan, my second son is Sebastian. All with ‘S’. Stefan is in Frankfurt, while Sebastian is in Hamburg. Sophie is living in Cologne.”
**
I was on the U-Bahn, going home from work. Sitting opposite me was a young guy. He had fallen asleep, but he was clutching something tightly in his hand. As though his life depended on it.
But gradually, his grip loosened, and that thing, which was so precious to him, which meant so much to him, fell out of his hand, to the floor.
Even God was telling him to let go.
Or was He telling me?
**
After dinner, I went back to my room and took out that diary.
1 January 2000
New millennium. Oh well, it has been widely disputed. But I don’t care. I am leaving for the airport soon.
You often say I don’t really understand you.
Maybe I don’t. Maybe I was naive to think that our love could conquer everything, could overcome all differences and obstacles. Of course I was proven wrong.
I am going to Tokyo, to try to understand you.
This was the last entry.
I was already getting used to being without her. I wanted to say no, but said yes.
I went to the supermarket to get some groceries for dinner.
She came at seven. I made dinner as she sat on the sofa, wordless.
She suddenly asked, “Can I play this CD?”
I turned my head. It was the new Silbermond single I had picked up. Das Beste. I nodded.
The music came on and I ladled the spaghetti on to the plates. I brought the plates over to the table. “Dinner’s ready.”
That was when I noticed the tears on her face. She wiped them away quickly when she realised I was looking. She managed a smile. “It’s a very nice song. First time I ever heard it. I don’t know when I would, or if I would even be able to hear it again. And if I do, I wonder what kind of feelings would I be carrying with me at that moment in time?”
**
10 December 1999
I have been ignoring you. I am sorry about that. But it hurts me a lot that you are leaving. You asked me to leave with you, but I am really not prepared. You might have been able to adapt to life here easily, but it wouldn’t be the same for me. I am not confident about living in Japan. What can I do there?
There are just too many differences. Asians are very different from us Europeans. Just look at you and me. You are always so focused, going all out, like you don’t know how to relax. I am always the one with the laidback attitude, taking things easy.
But it really hurts me a lot that you are leaving just like that.
But what do I want from you?
I don’t even know.
What right do I have to complain then?
**
Kae came back into my life. As though nothing had ever happened. Like before, I never asked much.
**
15 December 1999
I know I have been trying to run away. But now, when I am trying to turn back, you become the one running away, not picking up my calls, not replying my messages. Your curtains are drawn, you don’t answer the doorbell.
We are like two people who don’t need each other anymore: two people cutting away the string tying them together.
So why don’t you walk away?!
I...I think we are only hurting ourselves.
**
16 December 1999
You are probably somewhere over Central Asia now.
Maybe before you left, you had tried one last time to contact me. I wished.
But just in case, I made sure I was at work then.
Maybe it’s better like this. To give ourselves no chance at all. Put ourselves at the point of no return. A short intense pain, rather than prolonged agony.
Nothing lasts forever, I finally realise.
You have always known what you want. There is no place for me in your future.
And just like that, it ended with no chance of saying goodbye.
**
24 December 1999
It’s his birthday today. Unlike last year, he’s probably in Tokyo, while I am on my couch, watching a comedy in Spanish, in a language I don’t even understand.
I laugh at first, laughing at everything. Even though I don’t understand a single thing.
Then, my laughter turns into tears.
I am crying as I am writing this now.
God, I have never cried for a guy before. I must really, really love him a lot. A lot, a lot, a lot.
**
25 December 1999
It snowed today. Outside my window. I opened my window and marvelled at the falling snowflakes. They weren’t big, but they were still snow.
I just had an impulse to shout. In Japanese.
“It’s snowing! 25 December 1999. Cologne. It’s so pretty, isn’t it?
“Hey, are you watching?”
Merry Christmas, Kazuki.
**
“Sophie, why don’t you handle him? He looks Asian. Maybe he can’t speak much German.”
I shrugged. Not all Asians are Japanese, and Japanese and Chinese are rather different languages. Anyhow, I went forward to the customer.
“Hallo! My name is Sophie. Do you speak German?”
“A little.”
“All right. Please follow me.”
He nodded. I led him to an empty chair and asked in Japanese, “Pardon me for asking, but are you Japanese?”
He smiled and replied in Japanese, “I am not. But I grew up in Tokyo, so I speak Japanese.”
“Oh. So, you are...”
“I am Korean. You speak very good Japanese. Where did you learn it from?”
“I spent a year in Tokyo.”
“Study?”
“Well, in terms of hairstyling, yes,” I laughed.
We chatted in Japanese as I cut his hair. His name is Woo Suk, and he didn’t really know why he was in Cologne. He was learning German, and working at a Japanese restaurant. In many ways,
he reminded me of myself. And him.
Cutting Woo Suk’s hair was like cutting his hair.
**
After getting my haircut, I went home, because my landlord had invited me to his house for dinner. Even though I have been living in my present room for 11 months or so, this was the first time I was stepping into his apartment. He led me up the stairs to the dining area. There were many photographs along the wall. I stopped to take a closer look. He noticed me stopping and stopped as well.
“Those are my kids and grandchildren.”
“Oh...how many children do you have?”
“Three. Two boys and a girl. All much older than you, of course.”
“Is this your daughter?” I pointed out.
He nodded. “Yes, that is my daughter. She used to stay in your room. Oh, she speaks Japanese too.”
“What is her name?”
“Sophie. My eldest son is Stefan, my second son is Sebastian. All with ‘S’. Stefan is in Frankfurt, while Sebastian is in Hamburg. Sophie is living in Cologne.”
**
I was on the U-Bahn, going home from work. Sitting opposite me was a young guy. He had fallen asleep, but he was clutching something tightly in his hand. As though his life depended on it.
But gradually, his grip loosened, and that thing, which was so precious to him, which meant so much to him, fell out of his hand, to the floor.
Even God was telling him to let go.
Or was He telling me?
**
After dinner, I went back to my room and took out that diary.
1 January 2000
New millennium. Oh well, it has been widely disputed. But I don’t care. I am leaving for the airport soon.
You often say I don’t really understand you.
Maybe I don’t. Maybe I was naive to think that our love could conquer everything, could overcome all differences and obstacles. Of course I was proven wrong.
I am going to Tokyo, to try to understand you.
This was the last entry.
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