Pages of Mariskova

People who often hang out with me usually think of me (and sometimes refer to me) as cold-hearted. I don't blame them because I realize that I seldom show any warm feelings toward people or things or animals or (even) babies. It's not that I hide them. I just... don't feel like exaggerating them. You'll see, when you meet me. Besides, I find things more amusing in laughing and being a cynic. I didn't even cry or be sad when I left my parents two years ago because -being a cynic- I knew that I would be hearing their voices again exactly 1 minute after my arrival in Japan. God knows how right I am...

But this time... this time is different. All the packing and shopping and partying and saying goodbyes made my returning-hometown seems unreal for me. But, when my time was up and I was left with the one-last minute of my time, I couldn't help... crying.

First, it started with my Japanese class. The last session I joined was merrier. We laughed a lot and I didn't feel like I was about to leave. Then the 75-year-old Hasegawa Sensei -out of the blue, out of his habit- made us listen to one Japanese folktale about a girl who doesn't talk much. May be my Sensei was trying to send me a message? Anyway, when the session ended, my Sensei said his short farewell speech. So short that I didn't get a chance to feel anything. But, when everyone was away, the one-last minute, he shook my hand and told me his last words: Goodbye. You are one of my best students (Okay, at this kind of situation you are not allowed to reveal the whole truth!). I will miss you... pause...I don't think we will meet each other again... pause... but I will always remember you for the rest of my life.
He blinked. I cried.

And then came another farewell. This time we had a lunch invitation from my other Sensei: Shoda Sensei. He was my Japanese teacher for a couple of times but he was more like my mentor. He and his wife are also like the substitutes of our parents and Hikari's grandparents. When Hikari was sick, the Shoda couples were the ones who took us to the hospital and they were there to wait for Hikari to recover. Before going to their house, I knew this would be tough. I just didn't know how tough. We had a really nice lunch and we exchanged cheerful farewell messages. Then, we were left with the one-last minute... Gosh, I wish...

It was the same with our other friends. When we still had time, we laughed a lot and exchanged jokes. But, time never stands still. And then we were left with the one-last minute. And I feel like my heart was exploding for trying to grasp everything just so I won't... forget.

Guys... thank you. Honjo... thank you.
I won't forget.

Washington Hotel, Shinjuku, Tokyo. September 9, 2:48 AM, while looking out of the window from the 16th floor.