To Japan With Love

     He loved Japan, he loved everything about the country. 8 years ago he said he would move and work there, made robots and ate sushi everyday.

And he did it. I remember how he was jumping like a crazy kid when the university granted his scholarship. He took the early flight and directly rented a small room in a small apartment. He studied and worked as a part-time employee at his Uncle’s electronic store. He loved it. He made small robots for children and households.

He called me at least two times a week and shared all experiences he had. Friends forever, that’s how I named our relationship then.

     “Japan is amazing… Japan is beautiful… Japan is magic…” all I had to hear during his calls. He said that he’s considering moving there permanently, that one day he wanted to take me watching blooming sakuras on a picnic. The idea was nice, yet nothing felt special for me. I dated some guys, he dated some girls, and we stayed as friends. We discussed about everything, from business, movies, and even porn.

But that special day, after years of crazy friendship, he told me that he wanted more. “…do whatever you want, but in the end… marry me.”

That particular sentence, the most beautiful thing someone had ever said to me. We had a slow relationship, some called it boring, we called it… us.

     On holiday, he would fly home and acted like the usual him. He cursed whenever a guy accidentally bumped his shoulder, he hummed ridiculous songs while waiting for movie tickets, he kicked rocks, he fixed unimportant stuff and he would hug me all night long while whispered, “Life’s fun…”

He was all I had. For someone like me… who never had a normal family, who was once abused and molested, who fought for money since a little kid, who had tasted the bitterness of street life… He was my everything.

     One morning, he called from Japan, said that he wanted to do a trip with his roommate and friends. It was our usual hobby anyway, stupid road-trips.

Morning, afternoon… a day without his call went by naturally. Until I turned on TV and tried to find any interesting re-run program, but instead, the news said, Japan experienced the worst ever earthquake disaster in its modern history early Friday 11th March 2011, followed by a deadly tsunami…

I instantly tried to call him, but there was no answer.

     For days, no further news. Until that day when embassy finally announced that the team found his body near a river area. He was covered in mud, the body could not be recognized at first… but DNA proved positive. It’s him.

Calls were coming from friends and families. I couldn’t take any of it. I just sat there, in my empty room, not even crying. It’s impossible, it almost looked like a sad TV drama or something. But it’s reality, and I had lost my everything.

A year since the tragedy, I’ve erased all contact from my previous world. No more cellphone, no more old account of internet that could remind me of him. I have new friends, new work, new guy, new personality, new life.

But yesterday, I had this dream. He was laying next to me, smiling. He whispered, “Japan is still beautiful, it’s almost as beautiful as you…”

I couldn’t touch him, couldn’t hug him, couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t even say how much I was sorry for not able to be with him through it all. But I woke up, finally crying… realizing that he still is my everything.

     He loved Japan, he chose to stay there. And maybe, if life ever allows me, I’d really wanna leave everything and move there someday. With him.