I've been here, in Japan, for a year.
Another year of voluntary celibacy.
Actually, I don't know if it is voluntary...well, yes it is.
I miss the physical contact.
I have never had the emotional connection. There is no telling if I ever will.
Men today don't seem to interested in that or in me.
I am still that "fetish." You know the one: the black woman.
I'm not the woman that men are attracted to, I'm the black woman that would be a great story to tell or the notch on the bed post, the mark in the book.
Especially here.
Well, not especially here.
Most Japanese men are interested in talking with me, but not much else.
The one guy I am interested in is very.....stand-offish.
At one point, he did seem interested but something changed.
Perhaps the reality of things.
The reality of two bodies merging, the reality of the emotions involved, the reality of wanting more.
Japanese men are a curious bunch.
If you were to google "hot Japanese guys", you would get a lot of gay porn.
It describes them as "young, boyish, slender." Funny that is how hetero porn describes Japanese women.."young, girlish, slender." Like they are for fantasy and fun. Like they are fulfilling a damn dream.
No, no, no...I want a rough and tumble Japanese man.
Or a least a Japanese man that isn't afraid to go after what he wants. He is aggressive, not timid.
I figure (or figured) that if a guy was interested he would let it be known. Not play this game of cat and mouse. Take a chance and through caution to the wind.
But in the end, I think, it boils down to me.
There is this "thing" about me...
no one has ever explained me...what it is that men find so...intimidating, so...off-putting.
I miss those situations where I don't have to worry.
I need to lose myself in the moment again, if I can ever have that moment again.
