That morning, I rode the local train into Shibuya Station. It was a cloudy day and a slight chill hung in the air reminding the residents of Tokyo that Autumn was about to get into full-swing and winter would soon be on the way. Though I usually spend most weekends with friends, I had that entire day unreserved and all to myself. With no appointments to keep and a long-since-felt sense of relaxation, I drifted over to a favorite cafe of mine just down the street from the station and sat down to a lazy session of coffee-drinking, people-watching and daydreaming.

As was usual, however, my thoughts turned inward and I started thinking about my future plans here in Tokyo, particularly the goals I’ve set for myself in the next year or so. When this happens, the little notebook I carry, as well as a worn-down ballpoint pen come out and the ink starts flying. From there, time loses its meaning and before long, I’ve spent an hour or two filling up 4 or 5 pages with notes and calculations. This time, I even let my coffee get cold while it was still only around halfway finished.

Upon wincing at the shock of supposed-to-be-hot-but-actually-quite-cold coffee hitting my lips, I quickly set the cup down and decided to get another. When I had stood completely up, I noticed her. I froze and stared straight ahead at the woman who had made my life a living hell for several months last year. I thought I’d never see her again, yet there she was. She wasn’t looking at me, and I thought for a moment about quickly ducking into a corner until she passed. But, that’s just not me; I refuse to live like a prisoner when I’ve done nothing to deserve the loss of my personal freedom. That’s a big part of why I left her after a year of living together. I won’t go into the details of how she tortured so many of my waking and sleeping hours, but trust me when I say that there are few people in this world who I’d wish that sort of experience on.

Anyway, she was standing at a traffic signal, getting ready to cross the street. Several people gathered there around her, also with the intention of crossing over to the other side. Soon, I lost sight of her and the changing of the signal from red to green brought a sudden rush of pedestrians into the intersection and she was gone for good from that place on that day. I stood there motionless while out of nowhere, a strong gust of wind whipped my hair all about my forehead and face. Noticing then that several customers who had just purchased their cups of coffee, tea, or whatever were weaving themselves through the maze of tables looking for places to sit, I decided to vacate the shop and head back to the station, but not before grabbing another coffee, this time to go.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and early part of the evening visiting some of the various parts of Tokyo that I had planned to visit that day, taking photos and sometimes notes. I even talked for awhile to a man and his wife after they stopped me to ask to take their picture. After the sun set, I decided to call it a day, and with several planned destinations yet unreached, I headed back to my new apartment.

When I got back to my neighborhood station, I exited the building and began my short walk home. However, my stomach started telling me that it was time to stop in at my local Sukiya and put away a bowl of gyu-don. Not being in the mood to protest, I obliged my growling friend and did just what it told me to do.

I wolfed down my order, paid my bill, and hit the road home again. As I rounded the final corner before arriving at my place, it happened again. There she was, dressed differently than she was earlier, but the hairstyle hadn’t changed. Then, she quickly turned and faced me. Was that sudden turn in my direction a response to a gasp that I might have let out? Did I gasp at all? It was hard to tell since I was paralyzed, watching everything from behind unblinking eyes. As her eyes met mine, my body suddenly loosened up and I let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t her after all. But, this new development led me to wonder if I’d really even seen her earlier at all. Was it someone else? Had I made a mistake?

Well, over the next couple of weeks, that sort of incident repeated itself at least 5 times. Why was I seeing her face everywhere? Was there some unfinished business between us after all? I tried not to think about it too much, but the shock of these little incidents each time they happened left me more and more unnerved with each event.

Eventually, these little episodes stopped happening and I was soon able to forget about them most of the time. However, I sometimes can’t escape the feeling that there’s some kind of day of reckoning laying ahead in the not-too-distant future, even though I know the notion is absurd.

How about you? Do your personal demons haunt you sometimes?

closeAuthor: billywest Name:
Email: billywest@rocketmail.com
Site: http://thepokerist.net
About: a resident of South Tokyo living on the Toyoko line, soon to relocate to Shibuya off the Keio line.See Authors Posts (28)