by Lucy Dickens
I kissed someone else too.
I don’t want to pretend this month never happened.
‘I need a minute,’ I repeat, and pull back. ‘Come and wait inside, I need to clear my head.’
‘Don’t take too long,’ he says as I leave him and walk up the stairs to my room.
Don’t take too long to decide if I want to spend the rest of my life with him? Should I give myself a week, like he wanted, back when we were still due to marry?
I shake that thought from my head. If I’m going to do this, I can’t keep being bitter about the past. We were so much more than that one day that changed everything.
My room, my little bedroom in my Buddhist temple. If Matt stayed would he stay in here? No, this is my sanctuary. I slide the doors closed and stand by my window, practising breathing in and out, trying to clear my mind and search my soul.
Should I call my siblings? Brienne? My mum? See what they all think I should do? I hesitate, my phone in my hand, but then I spy my omamori dangling from my bag. I have to make this decision. I have to have faith that I can make this decision.
I could get back everything I thought I’d lost, and we could be us again. Him and me. Matt and Charlotte. We could finish the latest season of RuPaul’s Drag Race together. We could laugh in our kitchen over a bottle of wine as we talk about our workdays. We could rent that flat, just like we planned. I could feel the warmth and safety that I always felt when he slung an arm over me in the night.
And eventually we could plan our wedding again together, and we could joke about doing maybe something refundable next time, just in case, ha ha ha.
Only … that doesn’t feel like much of an adventure any more.
I open my eyes to see the last of the sunshine as she’s travelling on her way to the other side of the world, and it hits me like a spark.
It’s all just fear holding me back, fear of the unknown, but isn’t it fear and unknown that makes something an adventure? Would I have experienced Japan in the way I have without that fear of the unknown? Something tells me that I wouldn’t.
Fear of the unknown is telling me I can’t follow my dream to work at the magazine unless I’ve figured out everything about myself first.
Fear of the unknown is telling me to play it safe, to go back to Matt, to grasp hold of the life we promised each other now it’s back within reach.
‘Matt?’ I come down the stairs to find him where I left him, sort of, though he’s shuffled over to a display case near the reception desk and seems to be trying to put back together an ornament he’s knocked over.
‘Hello,’ he says, managing to save it and turning to me. ‘Uh-oh. That’s not a good face. I mean, it’s a lovely face, lovelier than ever, actually, but you don’t look like someone who’s just got engaged. Again.’
I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, with a softness that I know I’ll always feel for him.
‘We can’t try again? Just one more time?
‘That wouldn’t be moving forward, that would be going back. I’m not happy about how it ended, Matt, but it’s okay that it ended, and that we aren’t the same people we once were.’ I pause, and he nods. He’s scared to be without me, and I get that, of course I do, I was scared to be without him and I’m sure they’ll be times I’ll regret not just saying yes. But …
‘My goal right now,’ I continue, ‘is not to get you back or replace you, in fact, it’s not even to get over you. It’s not about you at all. My goal right now is simply to get to know me. Be my own best friend. Be happy.’
I’m sure a time would have come where Matt and I could have been happy again if that’s the road I’d followed. And if none of this had ever happened, if we’d been on that same page, we would have been so happy together, I’m sure. But it did happen, we were on different pages. I’ve read the book of him and me. For the first time I feel like I’m writing my own book now, and I know what I want to write.
Outside the sky cries for us and Matt, hearing me, accepting what I’m saying, pulls me to him and we hold each other, for what I know for sure now will be the last time as anything other than friends. ‘It’s been a hell of a ride,’ I whisper to him. ‘Thanks for growing up with me.’
‘Thank you for being everything I needed, even when I didn’t know it.’ He pulls back and looks at me one more time, really looks at me. ‘Good luck with your next chapter, I think it’s going to be amazing.’
‘Yours too.’
We break apart, our fingers lingering together until the end, when Matt puts his hands in his pockets and looks back at the temple. ‘So, you don’t think I should ask them if they have a room for the night for me or will I be banned for life?’
I chuckle. ‘I’ll be surprised if they even keep my room open for me.’
‘Was it really that bad?’
‘It really was, Matt.’
We say goodbye and I watch him leave, drifting out of my life like the last petal on a cherry blossom. But I don’t feel sad any more, I appreciate what we had. Life is transient, and that’s okay.
Later I text him to check he’s found somewhere in Tokyo for the night, and he has. He’s going to stay for a week and have an explore around, since he’s made the journey, before heading back to the UK. I won’t try and meet up with him before I get on my flight, but when he asks for my top tips I suggest he goes to Borderless, like we had planned to do together all those months ago. He could do with a bit of headspace. I also suggest a day at Disneyland …
That evening, I email Amanda at Adventure Awaits, and I ask her: am I allowed to apply for the junior travel writer role so soon after starting the internship? I need to know. I’m going to work there one way or another, and I need to know if I have to give up the internship first and then pray to everything and everyone that I get the job, or if I can do both without being seen as the most fickle employee ever.
The second I hit send I worry about what her answer will be. But you know what? Life isn’t perfect, sometimes you just gotta try.
I call Mara from my room afterwards, to tell her what happened, and to check in about Benny.
‘Yes, he’s okay for now, he’s looking forward to a chinwag with you when you get back but really, Charlie, you don’t need to worry about him.’ I’m not sure if ‘for now’ is good enough, but I do know where she’s coming from. It can be tough for young people, or anyone, when they lose sight of why they’re doing what they’re doing. ‘How about you? How did it feel seeing Matt again, you know, after the mad dash to extract him from bellowing his heart out in the middle of the silent meditation?’
‘It was okay,’ I reply. ‘Well actually it was heart-breaking all over again, but I’m okay. I think. It’s just been kind of exhausting navigating life after a break-up.’
‘Right, he was your first boyfriend, so he was also your first break-up,’ says Mara.
I sigh. ‘It’s not fun, I don’t know how you’ve got through hundreds of break-ups.’
‘Thank you,’ she deadpans.
‘I don’t mean like that, just … how do you keep picking the pieces back up?’
‘You just do, honey,’ she says.
I guess even Mara doesn’t have all the answers, all the time, and in a way that makes me feel better.
‘It’s funny, really,’ I say with a yawn. ‘I felt so lost when I first flew all the way here to the other side of the world. But now I’m still here and I can’t put my finger on what’s changed because I still feel like me, the person I always was.’
‘Just because you lost yourself doesn’t mean you had to find someone completely different. You’re still you, now you’re just getting to know you better. You’re like Charlotte, two-point-oh. Charlotte, with the saturation turned up.’
Lightbulb moment. I say to Mara, ‘Wait. I’m wabi-sabi …’
‘Well, darling, don’t say that, everyone puts on a little holiday weight.’
‘No.’ For God’s sake. With Matt being part of my life and identity for so l
ong, when my heart broke it felt like all of me broke. Crack. Right in half. But, ‘Wabi-sabi is … it’s like when something is broken, like in my case my heart, it’s not viewing it as finite, or even as a bad thing. It’s about putting it back together into something beautiful.’
After my call with Mara, I can feel a tiredness beginning to soak me, like I’m sinking into the warm waters of the hot springs, right up to my ears. But there’s one more video I feel I need to shoot before I go to bed.
I set my phone up on my windowsill, so I’m facing the moonlight, which creates a calm, blue filter on my video. I pull my hair into a ponytail and settle down on the floor.
‘Hi, adventurers,’ I smile. ‘I’m nearing the end of my time in Japan now and after a very … unexpected day I wanted to talk to you about something I’ve just learnt, but have also unknowingly been learning about all along.
‘You might remember from way back in episode one that this whole solo honeymoon thing came about because something happened between me and my fiancé and we called off the wedding. Coming to Japan on my own wasn’t planned, it wasn’t perfect, but that was my only option. That or stay home.
‘But if I’d stayed home, if I’d refused to take a chance on the plan that wasn’t perfect, I wouldn’t have swum in a rooftop swimming pool over Tokyo. I wouldn’t have walked among an entire forest of bamboo. I wouldn’t have even tried kayaking on a tropical island, let alone fallen out of one and discovering I quite like the salt water on my skin. I wouldn’t have seen the paper cranes in Hiroshima or the monkeys bathing in Nagano. I wouldn’t have completed my first-ever overnight hike and known that I want to do more. I would never have tried forest bathing and if I had I probably would have done it wrong and have been arrested for indecent exposure. I wouldn’t have spent the night in a Buddhist temple. And I probably wouldn’t have said no when the opportunity to pick my marriage up again was presented to me.
‘There’s a concept in Japan called wabi-sabi, which I won’t do any justice trying to explain without adding in a lot of “um”s and “err”s. But in a nutshell, at least partly, it’s about the beauty of imperfection.
‘When I left England, my heart was so broken. Not just in a romantic sense but the broken dream of the perfect wedding, the perfect marriage, the perfect home, the perfect life. And now I feel …’
I pause, shifting my gaze from the camera and looking out of the window for a moment.
‘Yes, that was all broken, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful before, and it can still be beautiful after, because of what you do next.
‘I think what I’m saying is, if you’re broken it’s never really the end, you’re never really lost, you can always put yourself back together. You bind yourself with the threads of the new experiences that you make, and what you come out with can be more beautiful and more unique and more fun than before.
‘And if you break again, you put yourself together again. It’s not easy, but it’s not bad. And I certainly feel happier accepting that.’
I look into the camera for another few moments, digesting my own words, and then smile, place my hands together, bow my head and say, ‘Konbanwa.’
Chapter 20
So now, like this land
My sun will keep on rising
day after day …
I’m happy.
My face is turned towards the morning sun, flashing against the window of the train, my journey to my final destination for two nights before returning to Tokyo and boarding my flight back to my new life. In London. Following the dreams my ikigai wouldn’t allow me to let go of.
I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years last night. I think I’ve finally cracked the art of snoozing on a futon and every part of me feels rested and ready to move forward.
On the other side of the glass, Mount Fuji sweeps up into the azure sky. She’s topped with snow and surrounded by a petticoat of miles of fuchsia pink phlox moss which blooms every year and is knows as the Shiba-sakura Festival. It’s breathtaking, and it captures everything I’m feeling.
Tonight I’m sleeping in a ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn, which has its own onsen to bathe in with views towards Fuji. I’ll be rejoining my Honeymoon Highlights friends there, and I smile thinking of them. What have they seen, compared with what I’ve seen? Has Japan changed them as much as it changed me?
Actually, ‘change’ isn’t the right word …
With my eyes closed, I can still sense the bright light of daytime seeping in thanks to the rice paper sliding doors, the shoji, that divide my room from the rest of the ryokan. The tatami mat flooring squidges under my bare legs as I shift position. I’m sitting on the floor with one leg outstretched, giving my ankle some TLC, and taking a moment to appreciate the room for its simplicity. In front of me, on the low table, I’m brewing tea as I was taught in Hiroshima, using a ceramic tea set of pale green, the colour of the river running through Kamikochi. An alcove on one wall contains an ikebana flower arrangement, pink, to reflect the colours of the season so associated with Japan. And in a closet is a futon which will come out in the evening to be placed directly on the tatami mat.
And after last night’s sleep, bring it on.
‘Excuse me, Ito-san?’ A familiar Australian accent rings out in the corridor outside my room, asking for help from the ryokan host, Mrs Ito. Lucas adds, ‘Am I really allowed to wear this even to dinner? My wife isn’t so sure.’
‘Yes, please do,’ replies Mrs Ito, Ito-san.
I hear another shoji slide open and Kaori’s voice sings out. ‘This is the yukata,’ she explains, and I know they’re talking about the cotton robes that are provided free and act as loungewear for around the ryokan. ‘Would you like help putting it on?’
I open my door quietly and stand watching them.
‘Thanks, Kaori, that would be ace, Flo hasn’t got a clue,’ Lucas guffaws back at his wife who comes out with hers on perfectly.
‘Kaori doesn’t want to see your undercrackers,’ Flo laughs. ‘Come in here and I’ll do it.’
Further down the corridor Jack pokes his head out of his own room. ‘Did someone say Lucas was in his underwear?’ And that’s when he spots me. ‘Charlotte!’
They all turn to face me, at the end of the corridor, and I’m walloped with a chorus of ‘Hello! Konnichiwa! Welcome back! How are you? What time did you get here? Is your room the same as ours?’
I’m about to invite them all into my room for tea when Mrs Ito reappears and beckons for us all to follow her onto the veranda at the back of the ryokan, which looks out onto a beautiful sloped zen garden complete with mossy rocks and a tiny waterfall. She instructs us to sit, and she brings the tea to us.
‘So tell me,’ I address the others. ‘How was Shirakawa?’ That’s one place I would have liked to have made it to had I remained on the tour. It’s a small traditional Japanese village, and World Heritage Site, up in the mountains.
‘Oh it was beautiful,’ enthuses Cliff. ‘Reminded me of where I grew up, actually.’
‘We spent a couple days there,’ adds Jack, ‘and it was definitely a highlight. The food was incredible, and the views stunning. Did you see anything of the mountains?’
‘I did do a hike in the Japanese Alps,’ I say. ‘And I fell over and sprained my ankle, but it was possibly one of the best bits of the whole trip. I felt …’
‘Alive?’ asked Lucas. ‘That’s how hiking makes me feel.’
‘Alive.’ I agree.
‘What did you think of Ishigaki?’ Kaori asks me.
I smile at the memory, at all the memories. ‘I tried the snorkelling, like you recommended. Did you know there are things called parrot fish that are all the colours of the rainbow? But they aren’t rainbow fish, those are something different.’
Flo clapped her hands together. ‘Talking of fish! We did a sushi-making class and it turns out Jack is an absolute legend at sushi-making!’
‘It’s true,’ Jack nods. ‘Apparently I can roll seaweed
as tightly as a professional.’
‘Will you have a go at it when you’re back home?’ I ask.
Cliff answers, ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
‘So come on, tell me,’ I pour myself some more tea. ‘And I mean it this time. What was the most romantic part of your honeymoon?’
They lapse into silence for a moment, thinking, murmuring things about how it was all so special, they loved every minute of it, and I spy Kaori looking genuinely chuffed.
Jack reached over and held Cliff’s hand. ‘For me it was staying in our own private little farmhouse up in Shirakawa. Just being together, being ourselves, and it was so peaceful.’
Cliff nods, holding his husband’s gaze, and then Jack continues. ‘It was like where you grew up, huh? Maybe we should find somewhere like that together back home.’
‘A farm?’ asks Cliff, a smile working its way onto his face.
‘At least a farmhouse, or a small ranch. Somewhere in the mountains. Maybe the Rockies.’
God, they are just so luscious, those two.
So that we aren’t all just staring at them, I ask the same question to Flo and Lucas, and Lucas right away says, ‘Smooching my wife at the top of the Tokyo Skytree. That was just awesome. I literally felt on top of the world, in all the ways.’
‘Aw,’ Flo blushes, and clocks him softly on the arm. After a little more contemplating, Flo says, ‘I know it sounds a little obvious, but for me it was a shrine we went to, north of Hiroshima: Izumo Taisha. Did you go there, Charlotte?’
I shake my head. ‘I went to Hiroshima but didn’t get north, only stayed in the city and to Miyajima.’
‘Miyajima is so beautiful,’ says Kaori. ‘And the famous torii gate has been under renovation for the past year so we were lucky to all see it in full glory.’
‘It was?’ I ask. ‘I didn’t realise that. So what made Izumo Taisha so romantic?’
Flo continues. ‘Well, one of the deities that are worshipped at the shrine is the god of happy marriage, so there were rituals and things already associated with it, which was fun and interesting. But it’s also a really popular place to get married, and seeing couples posing for wedding photos made me think of our day and, I don’t know, it just seemed really special.’
