j-girl

She was walking a few steps ahead of me, on the the way back to the hotel from the market on the ground floor. I’d seen her around, but I hadn’t met her. She held the door for me, which created a bit of an awkward moment, because I was suddenly just a step in front of her in the empty coridor. I broke the silence.

“I’ll get the next one.” I held the next door for her, and we shared the elevator. She commented on the quantity of bottled water in my shopping bags, and I made a lame joke about having a pet fish (or maybe it was about being part fish).

She had a sweet laugh, and I’m a sucker for a Japanese accent.

A few days later, I got my follow-up opportunity by the hotel pool, and I asked her out – for coffee, dinner, drinks, whatever.

One night, late, she texted me to ask if she could come over – in her pjs.

I’ve been spending every night with her for a few weeks now. When we talk, her soft full lips always reveal the hint of a smile, and her eyes have a brightness to them that makes it hard to look away. Kissable is the word. And I love her body. Wrapping my arm around her petite waist.

For the past few nights, my j-girl has been working very late, so she hasn’t wanted to sleep over. And the last two times she came over it was “only to sleep.”

Maybe she doesn’t like me “that way” anymore. Maybe she’s just tired from working too hard. Maybe she’s on her period and doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe she’s being Japanese (or a woman, for that matter) in a way that I (as a gai-jin and a man) can’t understand.

Anyway, I’m not really sure where this little fling is going, or whether it’s going anywhere. It’s too early to tell, as the fortune teller said.

A while ago I asked her a question, during a playful exchange of words after sex.

“Don’t you think it’s a little strange to spend so much time with someone, to really enjoy each other for a month or two, and then just say ‘goodbye’ at the end?”

A pause and a smile.

“Nope.”