mercredi 5 mars 2014

A night to remember. part 3.

Ok, here's a little disclaimer(?) that I'd really appreciate you to read if you're going to make slightly rude comments. Sleep means sleep, nothing more. When you're jetlagged and back from a trip you're tired, especially past midnight. Which was both our case. Also I decided to share that because I love writing and this is relevant to this blog, which is about my personal life and travelling. But keep in mind that I like to keep some things for myself, and don't feel like writing about them. I have memories that for many reasons cannot be shared.

He and I are still in touch, in good terms and that is all you should know. 
I hope you enjoy reading this. :)





Words bang against the walls of my brain, my mouth is dry and my heart heavy, so heavy I find it hard to be sitting, my chest feels like it's drawing me to the ground, and I'm not sure whether or not I'll fall if I let go of the seatbelt. The taxi driver doesn't say a word, probably because I'm a foreigner but I could be wrong. Maybe taxi drivers don't chat like in Paris here. As I watch the city pass before my eyes through the window I think that this must be exactly how Cinderella would have felt if she were real. Every inch that the wheels devour is like an awful question mark punching me in the stomach, but I cannot clearly understand the question. All I know is that I want the world to stop, every car to stop and run back to this blue room behind those glass doors where everything felt perfect. But I stay still, and try to ignore the tears and the pain in my chest. My phone rings "Be safe on your way back. Good night.."
Those neon lights and bright katana I've always seen in movies and dreamt of make it all even more unreal, the silence in the car, the wide and empty roads, everything looks like a movie. I pinch myself to make sure that isn't a dream. But it's all real, I am in Tokyo, in a taxi driving through Shibuya and heading towards Akihabara. I breathe in my scarf and smell his cologne. It's definitely all real.
I wander in my own mind, in a strange state of daze where the past three hours keep playing themselves again and again. At first I want to keep them away, but everything is so surreal that I need to go through it again and again, to make sure I don't forget anything. I don't want to let anything slip out of my memory. Every word, glance, touch, smile, scent, noise. Every little bit of him.


"What do you want to drink?"
"Water please".
"Water?"
"Well anything that isn't alcoholic, I don't drink alcohol".
I am a bit reluctant as I say those words, that usually make people go oh why? oh really? But he smiles.
"That's good. I don't drink either when I have something big at work. I live like a monk actually then!"
"Oh really? I guess I am like a monk too, I don't smoke, drink and I'm a vegetarian."
"Vegan or vegetarian?"
He knows the difference. He's interested. He's interesting.

*

- Are we there soon? I ask the driver in a hesitant japanese.
- In 20minutes!
20minutes. We've been driving for already the same amount of time. 40minutes. That's all there's going to be beween us for the time I'm here in Tokyo.

*

-So you speak japanese?
-Yes a little bit! You know a little french right?
-I used to. I lived in France for a little while. I love it there. The culture is amazing. Do you speak any other language?
- German a little bit. and you?
-Chinese.
-Oh chinese... I think I know how to introduce myself in chinese. 
He bursts in laughter when I do.
-Your accent is lovely but ... 
He stops and his hand reaches for me. 

*

-Do you like sports?
-Does yoga count?
-Haha, not really.

*

-Why did you get tattoos?
-I'm not sure... I used to think it would be nice when I'm dead to still be able to tell stories. 
-You're right.
-It must make undertakers work more interesting and fun too!
Strange brain has talked again. But he smiles and touches the ink.

*

-Do you like spicy food?
-Probably not as much as you but yes!
-Korean food?
-Yes!
-Japanese?
-Yes!
-Chinese?
-Yes!
-Italian?
-Yes!
-Ok, next time we really need to have dinner together then!

*

-It's normal being scared of death. But you shouldn't be.
-I suppose... but isn't it so sad to think all of that, including us will be gone one day?
-It's for new things to come.
- Still... It's selfish, I know, but... you see, when I think that one day I won't be able to feel nor the sun nor the wind, or eat delicious foods, or laugh with friends and look at the ocean ... I feel extremely sad.
-You know in Japan we have the sakura right?
I nod.
- They're beautiful, that's a fact. They don't need to do or mean anything to be beautiful. But what makes them even more beautiful is that they're not afraid to bloom to die a few days or weeks later. They stand in the now for now. And so should you.

*

I thought dates were nerve-wracking and ackward. But not once do I the need to pretend, conceal or explain myself. Words fly between us, and for the first time in my life I feel absolutely comfortable with someone.  It falls perfectly into place. And I can see that this was how we both feel. Natural. As I stare at his head on my lap, I feel the weight of years and a wave of love overflowing me. It's funny how our meetings always have something strangely aquatic.
The most cliché of all thoughts would describe it the best: heaven on earth. Past 2am, someone comes and wakes us up and then goes to call a taxi. I feel distress as I realise I am about to leave. He reaches for his wallet and hands me much more money than I need. We talk a little bit more, skins too and it's time to wake up.
- It was really nice to meet you...
He winks at me. I'd like to tell him, it's the second time you wink at me. Do you remember? But I don't.
- ...and I slept very well, thank you.
We laugh. He must sense the sadness in my eyes, I can see in his that he knows.
-Next time we'll have dinner.
He hugs me one last time, a bit longer.


*

Two days later, I am sitting in the sand, in Kamakura. A short train ride from Tokyo. I pick up a strawberry and bring it to my mouth. The sound of waves takes me back to his place, the warmth of the sun reminds me of the softness of his hands. I never understood why people liked physical contacts, now I know. His hand was reassuring, calming, comforting. I exhale slowly. What's next now? 
-Ouch!
-Are you alright?
I nod.
-Yes I just bit my tongue!
Pain I guess. Paris and Tokyo are 6036miles away. We're 19years away. I sigh. Those aren't even that bad. The real problem is that we're a world away. He does things I could never do, and the common things I do he cannot afford anymore. He probably doesn't even know how important that night was to me. This night spent with him will always be a golden moment, a night that taught me that there will be times in your life, probably a few, that will make you think " I was born to live this". And those times make your world spin differently. My pocket vibrates. I turn my face to the bright sun before reading the text.
"How is your trip going?"






20 commentaires:

  1. Fin d'article absolument belle. Je ne m'explique pas à quel point tout ce que tu présentes à lire, à voir, me parle. Merci de partager un moment si personnel, c'est touchant.

    elsa

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  2. Amazing, Emy! I could really feel your truthful feelings while I read this.

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  3. So wonderful! Sometimes that which is impossible is the easiest to desire, the easiest to love.

    -Camille

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  4. why did you get money after the so called sleep?

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    Réponses
    1. it's not so called sleep it was actually sleeping. and he paid for the cab to take me back to my hotel. seriously.

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    2. ok, i am just wondering, because usually i do not go for sleeping to unknown persons, i prefer to sleep in my bed at home or in my hotel

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  5. sorry for puncture...

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  6. We were both very tired he was back from a trip and I just arrived in Japan so was jetlagged and at 1am we ended up falling asleep. not that crazy really.

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  7. Wow... You are a very talented writer! The story is so uniquely "you," yet the emotion is so familiar. This is beautiful... Thank you for sharing. :)

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  8. It's really weird, it really made me think. From the conversations you transcript, or even from the text at the end( 'how's your trip going?'), the moment between you two seems so vapid ('do you like sports?') to the reader (or just to me?), and there's a huge gap between the dull conversation and the way you describe your extreme and beautiful romantic emotions... Makes me feel like it's all a matter of perceptions, those moments.

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    Réponses
    1. Everything is a matter of perceptions that's for sure.
      I guess... we're not dating, we met for the first time and as much as some things happened and some words were said I didn't want to write about that. Talking about what you like, feel and are interested in isn't dull though. I'm not sure what you're expecting from two people meeting for the first time and getting to know each other better.

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    2. well when i meet someone from the internet it's usually because I share similar interests w/ the person so we do have things to tell each other :D
      from your story it sounds like you're meeting a plain stranger, no matter how romantically you describe the situation I can't help but finding it creepy... That's maybe just my own impression

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    3. good for you.
      I see an almost three hours long conversation about various subjects as light as sports and deep as death or biggest fears as a solid sign that we had things to tell to each other.
      Find it creepy I don't care, just go be rude somewhere else.

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  9. Amazing!! I loved it! Is there a part 4? :D

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  10. sorry, but I have to tell, that you didn`t understand anything. I tried to suggest that instead banal dialogues, would be better the use of description, if you want to demonstrate the profound feelings you had. As you genuinely managed to do it in the first part of the story without trivial conversations. I assure you, that i will buy your e-book, because i like to read stories, and you are writing well, but still not in a perfect way. I misunderstood the entire part with sleeping and money (i`m sorry), probably because it was written in a misunderstanding way. You can fail sometimes too. Instead of denominating us rod, annoying, jealous or ugly, or censuring you should assume the risk of having critical, sometimes sarcastic reactions since you are working publicly. You must have this resistance. Otherwise the comments will celebrate you in a very boring unilateral way, as if you were the next winner of noble prize for literature. A quoi ca sert la critique littéraire in this case? Do you think that being immersed in a pink cloud as a superstar is more authentic?

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    Réponses
    1. Ok je suppose que t'es français donc tu peux arrêter le cirque de me parler en anglais alors que l'on est tous les deux français.
      Je n'ai jamais dit que mon écriture était parfaite, et surtout pas en anglais, mais ça c'est mon blog c'est pas un livre(je sais pas ça parait évident tout comme le fait que l'argent c'était pour le taxi, bien sûr je suis une prostituée et je vais coucher avec un inconnu puis je le raconte en ligne, c'est mois difficile à comprendre). Enfin comme tu le vois je ne censure pas, je supprime ce qui est inutile et j'ai instauré la modération des commentaires pour d'autres raisons que tes commentaires. Et je ne suis pas la seule à le faire. Si t'as envie d'une critique littéraire en voilà une, là ce passage c'est du concret c'est du vivant, de l'interaction entre deux personnes et OUI il y a des dialogues qui ne sont pas littéraires, et j'en ai choisi quelques uns banals, profonds, légers pour illustrer la diversité des échanges et le réalisme du moment. Je ne suis pas une actrice et dans la vie je ne passe pas mon temps à pondre des phrases super longues et imagées pour exprimer la profondeur de mes sentiments. Et vu l'obsession que tu sembles manifester à l'égard de cet article, et du fait que je n'ai pas apprécié ton impolitesse malveillante je te conseillerais de te trouver quelque chose de plus productif à faire.

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  11. En lisant cet article, j'avais la chanson "Heroes" de David Bowie dans la tête et la réplique phare du film "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" : "And in that moment, I swear we were infinite". Surement mon côté sentimental qui ressort :D

    Bref, j'ai beaucoup aimé cette histoire. Merci d'avoir partagé ce petit bout de ta vie privé. C'est vraiment agréable à lire, même pour quelqu'un qui ne parle pas très bien l'anglais. Le réalisme des dialogues ne m'a posé aucun soucis, bien au contraire.

    Je tenais aussi à rajouter que je te suis depuis quelques temps à travers ce blog et les vidéos que tu poste sur Youtube (et tout récemment, sur twitter !). Ne me prends pour une "stalkeuse" xD J'aime ta façon de voir les choses sur beaucoup de points, mais je ne vais pas m'étaler là dessus car ce n'est pas vraiment le sujet de cet article (puis je risque de t'écrire un pâté haha).
    Par contre, j'aimerai quand même préciser que je suis étudiante en langue japonaise, et c'est en tombant sur l'une de tes vidéos (entre autres) que j'ai eu un regain de motivation (je traversais une période où j'avais du mal à progresser et donc le moral n'y était plus...), aujourd'hui ça va beaucoup mieux, et je compte même me mettre à l'allemand, voilà, voilà ! ^^


    Laure.

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  12. wow, very romantic! Love your blog and vlog. You're amazing and good luck ;)

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