And here I am again. In the place where it began. In one of the places of one of the beginnings. Tajimaya.
I think it was so special to me because it was here that, for the first time in years — maybe for the first time ever — I felt truly alone. Not lonely, but free.
I’ve come here with others, but it feels different. This place doesn’t have the romance of Lion Café, the radiance of Inokashira Park, the delirium of Little TGV. My memories of this place are not tied up with anyone else. It is a space I invite them to share with me. A minor blessing that the smoke keeps most away.
This place is mine. And here, I can touch my spirit again. I can write. It has been so long since I’ve had this feeling.
Writing requires honesty. A shedding of skin. A clarity of the mind. Unflinching introspection as fuel for forward momentum.
As unintuitive as it is, my happiness has made me coil up.
I remember, in Singapore, in my house, with my pets, my things, my life. Surrounded by an edifice. I wondered if this was going to be my life forever. I had everything I wanted, I thought. Why did it feel like I was already dead?
I think I knew, but I didn’t want to see. It wasn’t what I wanted. It was what other people wanted for themselves. For me. It was what he wanted.
I was spending so much time and effort gilding my own cage.
Things are different now, I tell myself. I want to be here. I want to do these things. My house is mine alone. I have made my choices. I am here because of me.
No one teaches you about the weight of self-actualization. No one tells you that if you make your dreams come true, you will have to exist in them—in all the flawed, complex messiness of reality. For someone who always tried to float through the world, it is such an excruciating change.
I can feel him inviting me in. Underneath his words, I can hear him saying—I want you to feel safe with me. I don’t need you to warn me about who you are.
We fold into each other like origami and I wonder how delusional I have to be to feel this much, this intensely.
I look at the plastic food outside Tajimaya even though I know the menu intimately.
I reach for the door and open it.
I step through.