My Boy
I need to post these pictures because they make me endlessly happy and I want the sudden, forgotten delight of looking at them whenever I rummage through old entries in the future. The "secret" entry I've been working on for about 5 weeks now is still only half-complete, and I'm getting tired of waiting on it, so it's time to let the cat out of the bag. I was rushed to the hospital at 2am over a month ago because of what appeared to be hemorrhaging. That was on a Friday morning. Shinya got so horribly freaked out about it that he took a night bus from Tokyo that night to see me and confirm in person that I was okay. He arrived on Saturday morning and had to leave that evening; he was in town for only about 10 hours, but it was wonderful. He was exhausted, but happy to see me and see that I was more or less okay.
Before I took him to Osaka so he could catch a bullet train home, I took a few pictures of him. I caught him sort of off-guard in the first one. I love his smile.
We made dinner together (we made hamburgers--it was a first for both of us--and he is such an amazing cook that they were the best burgers I've ever had) and he told me more about his time in Botswana and how donkeys are considered national property there. He said that they're protected animals, but sometimes people in the country use them to pull carts (and some people even make donkey jerky out of them and eat or sell them when they're really hard up for money). To illustrate the point, he pretended to be a poor donkey having to pull a cart, and it was so cute that it made me laugh. For the second picture, I asked him to show me again what the poor donkeys in Botswana look like. ^_^ He's so cute, it hurts in a good lovey achy way.
See him making little hooves? He was trying not to laugh, but he can't help but laugh whenever I do. Well, okay, maybe it's only cute and funny to me, but it makes me miraculously happy whenever I see that picture.
It's been so long since I've been in love and it's a wonderful place to be again. I thought for years that the romantic in me was totally dead, but she was just sleeping beauty and light, waiting for the end of the business and the war and the ink and the envelopes. She was waiting for the right time. It's good to have her back, but I'm glad she's gotten older, like I have. She used to be all of me and that was too consuming. I couldn't think for years because she was so noisy with her poems and silk scarves and tenets.
She's prettier with those same scarves pulled tights between her lips. But her presence is reassuring and it's a happy, albeit quieter, return.
Before I took him to Osaka so he could catch a bullet train home, I took a few pictures of him. I caught him sort of off-guard in the first one. I love his smile.
We made dinner together (we made hamburgers--it was a first for both of us--and he is such an amazing cook that they were the best burgers I've ever had) and he told me more about his time in Botswana and how donkeys are considered national property there. He said that they're protected animals, but sometimes people in the country use them to pull carts (and some people even make donkey jerky out of them and eat or sell them when they're really hard up for money). To illustrate the point, he pretended to be a poor donkey having to pull a cart, and it was so cute that it made me laugh. For the second picture, I asked him to show me again what the poor donkeys in Botswana look like. ^_^ He's so cute, it hurts in a good lovey achy way.
See him making little hooves? He was trying not to laugh, but he can't help but laugh whenever I do. Well, okay, maybe it's only cute and funny to me, but it makes me miraculously happy whenever I see that picture.
It's been so long since I've been in love and it's a wonderful place to be again. I thought for years that the romantic in me was totally dead, but she was just sleeping beauty and light, waiting for the end of the business and the war and the ink and the envelopes. She was waiting for the right time. It's good to have her back, but I'm glad she's gotten older, like I have. She used to be all of me and that was too consuming. I couldn't think for years because she was so noisy with her poems and silk scarves and tenets.
She's prettier with those same scarves pulled tights between her lips. But her presence is reassuring and it's a happy, albeit quieter, return.