The International Love Cafe Vol.4

By Dannette Lambert

Miho broke the news that she would be going to China over one of our ritual Sunday morning post-party breakfasts. I was, at that time, relishing a veggie burger that I had special ordered from an import store in Tokyo and dressed up with my favorite toppings. Thoroughly engrossed in my creation and my silent reverie over the previous night's antics, it took me a while to realize the full significance of the plans she was describing. When the weight of the information fell on me I was mid-mastication and completely caught off guard. Suddenly, the meal I had been so enthralled with turned dry and tasteless in my mouth and in my attempt to rid myself of the offensive lump I prematurely swallowed, causing it to lodge in my tightening throat. Before I could think to be concerned about choking, an unlikely lubricant came in the form of my newly formed tears. I remained inconsolable throughout Miho's explanation for leaving and finally had to leave our apartment in order to pull myself together. As I fled from our home the only thought I could manage was 'What am I going to do wihout Miho?'
You would think that someone who left all of her family and friends behind, not once, but twice, to go and live in a foriegn country might be able to handle the parting of a single friend. But this isn't just a friend. This is Miho.

If you know her, you know what I mean. Hiroshima's resident artist, she has a way of turning everything she touches into a thing of beauty. From her stylish clothing, exotic jewerly and imaginitive hairstyles, you get the impression that her greatest work in progress is herself. And that work is not limited to the exterior, as she is constantly taking on new projects and trying new things in attempt to expand her heart and mind. Whether it is hitchihiking across Japan, harvesting sugarcane in Okinawa or studying Spanish in preparation for her future life in Spain, she dreams big, but is always willing to take the steps to make her own dreams come true.

Hence the plans to move to China. The rational part of my brain, the part less concerned with myself, is so proud of her. This move will allow her to learn the ins and outs of running a business. She will be working as a resident jeweler, actually making a living doing what she loves and learning along the way. Deep in my heart I know that this is the right decision, and I'm happy that she is strong and indepent enough to make it.

But, having been her roommate for the last six months and knowing the comfort of having someone so loving and giving as a part of my daily life, the idea of living without her laughter, without her beauty is near excrutiating. Is it just a coincidence that the week she went to visit China, the temperature dropped and all signs of the oncoming spring disappeared in a flurry of snowflakes? I could tell she had returned even before I saw proof of it by the sudden reappearance of the sun and with it the return to warmth. It makes me wonder if I will have to live the entire year she's away with that unsettling chill in my spine.

She's back for now. And all the roommates in our apartment seem to be breathing a little easier. For the first time in a long time we're all home on a Saturday night and we all plan to go out to the night's Bass Instint party together. I can hear Miho and Nao's laughter as I type these words. There is a lesson to be learned here. No more tears will be shed until she's gone and instead of feeling sorry for myself I'm going to be happy for her and enjoy the time that we have left. And in our parting I hope I can convey, in one way or another, that I know how lucky I am to have known her at all.

Time to look for tickets to China...

Darling Miho, never doubt that you will be missed.