A Japanese Dinner

I had my last Japanese class a week ago, and last night - Tuesday - my class met for the last time, at a beautiful, ouchily-expensive, Michelin-starred Japanese restaurant in town.

I was the first there, and when my musician came in, he chose to sit next to me rather than at one of the other eight free seats on the table. And while I tried to talk to other people, I spent most of the time talking to him, and smiling at him, because he's just so darn sweet.

I think maybe I do love him, after all. Which is not the same as being IN LOVE with him, I'll remind you. But yeah...I think I probably love him. It's kind of impossible not to, he's very loveable.

The musician and I both ate tori teriyaki - chicken with a teriyaki sauce - although he started with yakitori (marinated chicken kebabs) and I had miso soup (soup with spring onions, little tofu chunks, wakame - don't ask me what that is - and lots of salt). It was pretty good, although perhaps not £20 ($40USD) worth of good. I'm not a big fan of Japanese food in general - I always come away feeling a little bit high (presumably from the salt) and a little bit hungry - but I have to admit, this was pretty nice. And the musician...he was more than nice. Talking to him was heaven on earth.

Aaaaand now he has me speaking in cliches! Argh!

I don't think he's going to contact me over the summer. It's hard to explain why, because he seems to like me, and enjoy talking to me - he was doing as much talking as I was last night. But the impression I get is that he finds something about me slightly risky. I can't explain that statement, I'm afraid. All I can say is that the emotions I pick up from him are a bit of confusion, and a bit of...well, it's not fear exactly, but anxiety. Like he feels like he's doing something he shouldn't. I don't know if this is related to me, or if it's something he feels a lot of the time - he's a born worrier, worries about a lot of things, and doesn't have anywhere near the amount of self-confidence that he should have. So perhaps the feelings that I pick up don't have anything to do with me, in which case he may email me at some point. But even if he doesn't, I know his name now, so I can find him if necessary.

Hah, you're probably thinking, STALKER ALERT! But no, I'm not going to stalk. I just don't want to never see him again.

After a night like that, I'm still floating. I know that in the next couple of weeks - and certainly over the summer - I'll come back to earth with a bang (sorry, poor choice of words there) and will have to find someone else to have a crush on. Apollo, the light of my life since I was 12, is moving to South Africa at the end of the year, which bums me out a little bit. (Everyone is leaving me atm, but I'll tell you more about that another time.) So I guess I'm open to dating again, now that two of my favourite guys are not so much in my life. Or at least I WILL be open to dating, once the fairy dust wears off.