After I came back to Tokyo, I appreciate my freedom and independence even more now, although Tokyo is not the same anymore.
Many of my friends have left and many more are leaving. The good people, mostly. Of course many people are coming to Japan too, opportunists, mostly.
It’s depressing, really.
But I came back because Tokyo is the only place I feel home now. And I knew people were waiting for me to come back, although some were surprised that I did.
Harry is a photographer in New York. We started to exchange emails when I was visiting my family.
Yuk, I know. Another photographer. But somehow we hit it off right away. We connect perfectly at some levels, although obviously we have very different values. He only dates bankers, doctors, and professors. I hate bankers, try to avoid doctors, and find most professors boring.
Oh, but we used to talk for hours on Skype. He often entertained me with his colorful stories about celebrities. Like all other professional photographers, he travels around the world and shoots the rich and famous. I think for most of them, their world is built on money and fame, neither of which is particularly inspiring to me though.
Harry was great fun, but there was one thing that kept throwing me off. He was always saying, “When I go to Tokyo next month, if we hook up, I will go back again this summer.”
I suppose hooking-up is rather important to men.
Harry did come and we did meet, but no, we didn’t “hook-up,” although he did, finally, on his last night in Tokyo, with a Japanese girl who allegedly attacked him.
I still like him, but I just can’t imagine having a partner who is always busy hooking up.
