It isn’t that I’m racist against Gaijin. I’m sure I, having met myself when I first got here, would have hated me.  But I can’t help but think they will be my downfall.

Yes, love is a dangerous thing.  As it grows, so does the looming grief behind it, distorted and exaggerated, as shadows will be.

From this dark place, I hear only echoes, see phantoms floating. A distinguished shock of white hair, tennis tape and rickety ladders, a posse of ninety year-olds rolling up in cross-hatched sweaters and Keds to tear my Shakespeare class to pieces, tales of the drink (that watery space between two naval ships), of accent-tinted Irish jokes, and of never-ending chocolate and kindness, as though one sweetness was the result of the other.

It is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to my grandfather today. The burning lightness of absence is a unique shape with no other pieces to fit it; for all the misery that holds and the wonder it preserves, leaving me so beautifully incomplete.

-Christian

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