Hütte

I met her on the spring of 2012.

I left my job a week earlier without a 2-week notification so I think it is pretty understandable that the company I had been working for had been calling me nonstop to probably know what was up. I did not answer any of those calls because honestly, neither do I not know. I just wanted time to figure things out for myself alone with myself.

I was wandering around the town with my old red kei Subaru when I spotted a store which name was hütte. I have this crazy obsession with Germany and their language so I parked and helped myself in. It was a really small bar. It could probably accommodate 10 people at most.

Irrasshaimase! Said the voice from the kitchen.

She came out drying her hands with her apron and flashed a big smile. I was suprised to find out that the bartender, which I found out later was the owner, was a japanese woman. I was hoping to meet some German dude or chick, and maybe boast a little with my Deutsch skills and talk about their culture and some of their fine literary works. This woman did not disappoint though. She was more interesting than I initially thought she would be. 

You're my first customer for today, she said while handing me an oshibori.

She told me she usually opens at 5:30 but she arrived at her store way earlier.

Might as well open the store early, right?

Yeah. I agreed.

She was playing Juju's Calling You when I came in and this made me order a drink. I love beer, and so I ordered one. She gave me a salad to eat. I don't know what it was called but it had eggplants, okra, spinach, tomato sauce and cheese. I ate all of them and she gave me seconds, for free.

She introduced me to different kinds of music. She was especially fond of jazz so we listened to that a lot that day.

I liked how intimate that place was so I kept going back. We became really close. I would help her pour other customers' drink. I would help her wash the dishes. One night I was the only customer. I was sipping on my chardonnay and she was gulping shots of umeshu. We got really hungry but she was maybe too tired to make something.

I want to eat nabe at that new izakaya near the station. Have you heard of that place?

I said no and off we went. She also invited her twin sister and we ate and drank and talked until morning. You will not believe how big our age gap is by the way we laughed so much about petty and silly things.

I drank way too much. Unable to drive, she invited me to her house. We talked some more over tea. She showed me videos of his son, who was also my age, playing the jazz guitar. She told me places she had been. She even got to the point of crying in front of me. 

I have been seeing someone but he is married. I really feel bad. I feel bad for myself and his wife. But I love him.

She asked me not to mention it to anyone.

The next day, I helped her open up the store. We cleaned some of the remaining dirty dishes. I washed the ashtrays while she mopped the floor. She made us a simple meal and we ate.

It was Friday. Everyone goes out for a few drinks on Fridays and apparently that bar was one of the locals' favorite. I met a lot of people that night. Most of them were her customers from the bar she used to work at. There was a musician who also owned a bar with live jazz music every night, of course with him playing. There was also a very rich businesman who told me he had a drink with Mick Jagger in Phuket because they were staying at the same hotel. I also met a coffee meister who owns a coffee shop nearby. He taught me a lot of things about making coffee--from roasting, to grinding and even techniques on pouring your coffee. Now, I can make really good coffee, thanks to him. There was even a ramen chef who offered me a job at his ramen shop. There were surfers and I even got involved with one of them for a while. Of course there were assholes but we easily thwarted them away.

Basically, I met everyone there that I would never have met anywhere else. This place made me get out of my comfort zone. This place made me realize what I want and who I want to be. Three months later, I purchased a one-way ticket to Cebu.

I've decided to get a degree in Linguistics and I'm leaving in two days.

The room fell silent but it was a good kind of silent. They gave me a toast.

To natsumi's future! They laughed.

We all drank and talked for the last time.

Gambatte ne. They wished me well and I left.

I miss her.

I miss her so much. I still think of her and how much she had helped me find myself. I had told her my fears and worries which I could never share to my own mother. I wonder if she realizes how significant those three months I spent drinking with her were to who I am today. I was practically bumming around without a job and without any plans for myself but she and her other friends were there telling me stories that would act as pieces of advice.

I wonder if any of them still think of me as the girl who loves beer and Mevius. I wonder if they are wondering how I am doing.

I wonder.

Death, Pain, Love

So tell me, is it truly possible to know exactly how someone feels? There are empaths in this world, and I am a self-declared one. I have held tears when i see children begging for food, and i feel the pain of the mothers who can't provide it. And when I say feel the pain, I really feel that physical pain in your chest that we associate with emotional pain. I'm sure a lot of people feel this way, but that's not all there is to it. I take the pain as my own, and that's the difference. Most people sympathize but not empathize. This may be a gift or a curse. Who knows.

It was different yesterday. We went to see a friend in the hospital. We were supposed to see him in the morning. His mother was getting worse, and he probably needed someone to channel his fears to. We told him we will see him later in the day.

Later that day, he told us his mother had passed away.

I choked, i felt nauseated, and my gut suddenly felt shallow and empty like how you feel during the first drop of a roller coaster ride. We were in a mall when we got the terrible news. My boyfriend and i did not talk for 5 whole minutes; we just walked aimlessly. And then we snapped out of it; we talked about other things---where to eat and what else to buy. I suddenly thought of the people inside the mall. How many else had gotten terrible news right at that moment? How many else had lost a loved one that day? I could never tell just as they could never tell that we have a friend who just lost his mother. 

We had dinner with another one of our friends, and we all went straight to the hospital after. When we got there, he told us again that his mommy was gone and grieved his mother's deplorable death. The boys gave him a hug for a good three minutes. I stood there and looked at the heart-wrenching scene. His eyes were swollen and tired, but most of all, his eyes were the saddest eyes I have seen for a very long time. I was frozen. I fidgeted with my phone. I was awkwardly twirling my hair. I did not know what to do. I could not find the right words to say.

Should I say sorry? No. There's nothing a sorry can do.

Should I say be strong? No. I know he's strong.

Instead, I asked if he was okay, and yes, I am fully aware that it was the most irrelevant question ever.

I told you.

I really did not know what to say, and I regret saying something like that just for the sake of it.

He finally let us in, and there lay his mom. She was still on her hospital bed but this time, inside a body bag with the zipper still half open, which gave us a great view of his mother's face. She had a faint smile on her face as if saying she had a good one. I could only imagine how painful it would be for him when they zip that body bag up, when they lay her in her coffin, and finally, when they bury her 6 feet under. Each seems to act as a confirmation that she really has to go---each time just as painful.

But I did not feel anything.

I could not feel his pain like I used to with other people. I was there, standing between the living and the dead. I was staring right through the eyes of death, and yet, I did not feel anything. Maybe I was up too close, and I couldn't make out what was in front of me. Maybe I needed to take a step back and look at it from a different angle or step back a little further to get the bigger picture.

We went home, and I thought about this for a while. It was midnight when I realized that what he was experiencing was the ultimate kind of pain. His eyes told me so. And when one is experiencing this kind of pain, only he himself can feel this. Not even empaths can share this kind of pain. This explains why comforting words will never work. Only he himself has the ability to heal his wounds, and the best thing the people around can do is wait and send all the love they can give. Wait and love.

Love.

And more love.