But of all these friends and lovers There is no one compares with you And these memories lose their meaning When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life I love you more
I have only left Japan for 3 months, but it feels like a lifetime ago and a world away.
Granted, I've only been back in Singapore proper for a month, but nostalgia hits me randomly, and my heart actually aches when I think about Japan, about my life there and what it felt like.
I miss you Mellie. I miss texting you on the long train rides and back, griping about work and talking about the most inane things. I miss our Friday dates-checking out the malls and secondhand clothing stores, searching for the perfect cafe. I look at the scrapbook you made me as a farewell present and I wish you were here with me. I think of the time I went to stay over at your old place in Tamachi and how there was a big typhoon and you came to pick me up at Tsutaya, and we ended up running and screaming down the streets with our umbrellas blown off by the howling wind and we got back soaking wet and you made me coffee. That's a story to tell our kids.
And of course I miss you. I was sitting at Molly Malone's with Chaz and her guy friends last night, listening to the Aussie and Irish duo, and I thought of you and Kieran and the Cashell band, the farewell concert you worked so hard to put together. I thought of how we would sit in The Hub chatting over our Long Island teas until the lights came on and the chairs were overturned, and the last train had long left. I thought of how we went on walks at night exploring the neighbourhood, checking out new restaurants or dropping by Abang's. I thought of the hilly steps and steep gravel that led to your house in Yamate, how I would always stop right in the middle of the road and stare up at the rich midnight blue sky with the twinkling stars and remind myself how amazing it was to be there with you.
These mornings I sit at Bussorah Street having my morning kopi, watching the world slowly awaken, the streets so quiet you can hear the birds chirping, before the morning rush to work. I imagine what it would be like to share breakfast again with you, talking about the day ahead or discussing something in the news. I remember how you used to make us breakfast every morning- smoked salmon and melted cheese on toasted rye, and you got me eating tomatoes. You taught me how to cook.
But I remind myself that I chose to leave Japan, and surely better things lie ahead.
Live in the now, make the most of every opportunity and always be thankful.