In comparison to others blasian love stories, you might find this one a bit dull. Nonetheless, I'll share it when the spirit moves me because there's nothing I want more than for all black women to experience the pure joy of falling in and maintaining love. 'Til death do us part is not a myth. It's a reality and all of us deserve it.
Let me preference this by saying first -- I don't prefer Asian men. It had always been my goal in life to marry a strong black man and stand at his side in partnership. My husband also does not prefer black women. I'm so far from what is logically his "type," it's just crazy. Love is madness. This worked well for us because we entered our "thing" without preconceived notions or unrealistic expectations. I wonder if any men get bashed more than Japanese men. Judging all of them by the standards set by upper middle-class SUITS in Tokyo or criminals is terrible.
According to The Husband, the Red Thread of Destiny/The Red String of Fate bound us. Case closed. I'd have to agree because there was no other reason for him to suffer and toil in the Deep South for six years other than to meet his future wife. Or for me to completely alter the course of the life I had planned for myself.
This is a tale about a black woman (Dad understands) and a Japanese man who never dated, yet fell in love, got married and moved to a insane country to work and to start a family.
In retrospect, it's funny because we knew of each other's existence vaguely six years before we officially met. When I was an undergraduate student, he was working on his Master's degree. We both "worked" in the same place, so we'd sometimes pass each other in the corridor. It all seems so surreal now because I remember his face and having to look up at him and he remembers that I always wore short skirts although he didn't recall my face. Men. Meh. This is weird because we were married nearly a year before we put two and two together. *clueless*
It all began after I returned from two and a half years of alleged study (i.e. drinking and dancing in Taiwan). My friends and I wanted to link up six months later to "teach" English in Japan and earn lots of money before running off to Greece. This never happened. I asked my former Chinese professor to introduce me to a tutor. The first guy I met was a total FAIL! We disliked each other on sight and frankly speaking, I was sick to death of men by then. Yes... I was jaded at age 24. He suggested that I meet his friend who needed to learn another language.
A week later, the two of us met in my former professor's office. I remember it like yesterday. My first impression was that he was too damned skinny, his jeans were too tight and he reminded me of an animated character with his big black glasses. Yet as he came closer, I saw that there was something deliciously FINE about him!!!
Checklist. Deep voice - check. Tall enough (my head almost fits under his chin) - check. Beyond Spock-level intelligence - check. Beautiful eyes - check. Tight ass - check. He could have had me right there on the desk before we introduced ourselves.
We talked for awhile and finally agreed that we'd meet on Wednesday nights. Eventually, this changed to Sunday nights. This was the beginning of a very curious journey because as I said, we fell in love without ever having dated. We weren't even friends, so the love-event that unfolded caught us both unawares.
Bored yet? :D