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<strong>Buddhas</strong> <strong>and</strong> <strong>Bikinis</strong> 26<br />
started. Maybe next time I will come back with him? What a joke.<br />
Bringing a man back here to my traditional family, a man who isn’t<br />
Japanese. A man as lowly as him to my family. They would laugh at me.<br />
They would say, ‛Have you gone mad? An Australian?’<br />
And they would look him up <strong>and</strong> down <strong>and</strong> wonder what on earth I<br />
saw in him. They would suspect I just felt pity for him, or to make a<br />
mockery of him, to hurt him, to make this Aussie love me so that I could<br />
leave him. But these angry thoughts don’t seem to be coming from me<br />
anymore. It is like there has been a separation, of a me <strong>and</strong> I that are no<br />
longer one. I cannot identify with I. Who is this angry Japanese girl I see<br />
in the mirror getting dressed for the airport. Who is this small Japanese<br />
girl whose body craves a man thous<strong>and</strong>s of miles away, but who is the ‛I’<br />
that hates him - loathes him. Who am I?<br />
All ‛I’ have ever wanted is someone who underst<strong>and</strong>s me, who can<br />
love me for what I am rather than what they see me as. My ‛I’ knows that<br />
men are so easy to please, <strong>and</strong> hence manipulate. You play with their<br />
cock <strong>and</strong> you have them coming in the palm on your h<strong>and</strong>. But this man,<br />
I make him come <strong>and</strong> he doesn’t leave. And then he makes me come <strong>and</strong> I<br />
ask him to stay! ‛I’ must be mad. Who is this ‛I’? I do not know her any<br />
more. Where has this emptiness gone that ‛I’ craved for, for so long? I<br />
once asked Ari about emptiness <strong>and</strong> he sighed, as if blowing out a<br />
lifetime's frustration.<br />
‛Emptiness? What emptiness? Maybe you have come home, to<br />
yourself.’<br />
I laughed - the fool, what would he know? An ugly boy who thinks<br />
because he’s read a few books on Buddhism that he is a Buddha?! The<br />
only nice thing about him is his cock.<br />
Pfugh! Men, I do not need them. I will not return to Australia. Never.<br />
At the airport, I am waving goodbye to my family. I am wetting my<br />
niece’s face with my tears. I cannot speak because of the heartache of<br />
leaving my family. It tears me apart that I will be travelling all alone. It<br />
is like death, like dying. You say goodbye to those you love <strong>and</strong> you know<br />
there is nothing you can do to stop the departure. The time draws you<br />
away from them. You say your last goodbyes, <strong>and</strong> you are spirited away
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