You guys know the drill - I drop off the face of the earth for a bit, come back, promise to get better, post responsibly for a few weeks, and then I'm gone again. I'm like the abusive, neglecting parent of blogging. I'd say I'm sorry, and that I'll change, but you know as well as I do that it's bullshit. And that's okay. I'm kinda okay with that.
Oh, and happy belated birthday, blog. You're two years old now. Honestly I thought I probably would've abandoned you by now. I guess I'm not that much of a neglecting parent after all.
I don't know about you guys, but I'm really sensitive to scents. To me, different scents have different meanings, and affect me in different ways. They're also appropriate for different times and places. Take for instance my chocolate body wash - it's a smell that, to me, doesn't fit in with Tokyo. It's a dark and, I don't know, warm smell. It's smells like winter, and this place is just not very wintery. It's also been a smell I've heavily associated with the Philosopher, and thus have been pretty reluctant to use it. I finally finished it, and now I feel a little weird about it. It's like a cut tie. I know that's completely ridiculous, but it's like a clean break for me, where I move on to new smells that make me think of new chapters of life. My new scent is plum. Not sickly sweet, but still light enough to kinda reflect how much lighter I feel.
And if you're new to the show, yes - I do occasionally sound completely insane.
I went to Meiji shrine with one of my students the other week. I think it might've possibly been a date. It's hard to tell, since he might be the most soft-spoken and gentle-seeming person I've ever met, and has never made anything close to resembling a move. Seriously, zero body contact, not even by accident. He does however keep asking me to things, and contacting me on social media, and only today invited me to his neck of the woods in Saitama for cherry blossom viewing in April. I've seen enough anime to know that viewing cherry blossoms together means something. Seriously speaking though, he's a darling.
And just today, this cute boy who does kyudo came to my lesson. You know the type - tall, a little shy, probably not the popular guy in high school, but now all grown up and handsome and stuff? Yeah, that's the one. Anywho, he was saying that his dojo master was complaining that he wasn't using the muscles on the side of his chest.
"Oh? How do you even train those?" I asked (completely innocently I might add).
He looked like he was trying to find the right word for the longest of times, before having a eureka moment and going:
"Here! Feel here," prompting me to put my hand on his chest and then going through the motion of pulling a kyudo bow so that I would feel the muscle work, and I just about creamed my pants a little. Goddamn, archers are sexy, especially when they don't even realize what an intimate thing they just did until they make eye contact and you kinda both blush and sheepishly grin and continue with the lesson.
Speaking of darling boys, I met up with Skin Boy again, or as Puppy likes to call him: Serial killer-kun. Not that he's creepy or anything, but the whole skin thing feels a little The Silence of the Lambs when he brings it up. 'It puts the lotion on the skin' and all that jazz. Anywho, he stayed at my place on Sunday, and was the perfect company to have when an earthquake decided to rock the whole place around 4 in the morning. Shaken out of my sleep and momentarily feeling scared, I had this cute, sleepy, warm thing nestled up next to me, holding me, and I felt infinitely better. Safe, even.
It was a small moment, but I've been missing that more than I think I have. I miss feeling safe in someone's arms, having that affection that comes from loving someone and them loving you back. It pops up momentarily, before being silenced by fun and games and booze and boys, but it's there. I miss relationships. I really do. I love fun, and I love my life, but I can't help hoping that I'll find the real deal sooner or later. That being said, I'm not going to lie - on my birthday, I was walking home from Birdie's house at 1.30 in the morning, smelling the night breeze after a day filled with delicious udon, a pretty boy to sleep with, and then champagne and a tiny strawberry birthday cake at Birdie's, and I thought to myself:
This is what I want my year to be.
And I meant every word of it. I'm not always happy, but I'm happier. I'm not always on top of shit, but I'm more on top of shit. I forget that sometimes. I forget that I'm actually quite proud of myself for making it this far.
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