Diary: Y.Y. and I

Y.Y. and I

It was the time I went window shopping with my boyfriend. I just called him Y.Y. because he told me to do so. Therefore I was not sure his real name was. He was always worried that his name was thought to be a complicated one. We didn’t have much money to spend. To tell the truth, we had money but we didn’t want to use it, so we liked to look into shop’s displays and see the products such as clothes, shoes, watches, and books. On weekends, we often went downtown. It took about twenty minutes by bus from our apartment, and enjoyed seeing shops’ windows. We walked hand in hand and stopped in front of the bookstore. It was one of his favorite places in this town. Every time he stopped there, looked up that building, and said ‘Let’s go home,’ however, this time I said ‘Let’s enter and look around.’ He smiled and we entered with our hands together. Many books were on the beautiful shelfs. I knew that he wanted to look around by himself, so I told him that we would meet at the entrance an hour later. He smiled, and said, “See you later.”
Actually, I was not so interested in reading books. You know, each person has their own forte. Y. Y. was a person whose forte is to gain knowledge by reading books, but it was not mine. But, I started walking around the store not to waste the time. It was the thing I hated the most. Y. Y. was not a genius, but an intelligent. Every time I asked him questions, he answered. Even if I asked something that would incur ridicule from common sense, he tried to answer or think about that with me.
I knew that everybody would be surprised when I said that I did not know what his job was. You want to ask me why, but there was no reason. We got up together, had breakfast together, washed teeth and faces together, went out of our apartment together, had dinner together, and slept on our bed together, but did not know each other’s jobs. Every morning we left our apartment at seven forty and walked to the station. At the terminal, we said good bye and I took the train on our right side and he took that on our left. So, we did not know where each other’s offices were. Although I didn’t know his job, I remembered that he sometimes said that he liked writing. He was also a good story teller, so I had encouraged him to become a writer several times, however, he had never said yes, just smiled.
I went back to the entrance to meet Y. Y, but he didn’t come. I waited for more than an hour, but he still didn’t arrive. I went out the book store and found the outside was completely changed. I wondered. I guessed that there might be a connection between this change and the fact that Y. Y. had not come. I knew that he was so meticulous that he would not be late. I looked at the window of that book store. The display was also changed and I noticed that one book had made a big hit in this country. I didn’t know why, but I entered the book store again, grabbed that book, and bought it. Although I went to our apartment wishing he had come there before I did, nobody was there. I started reading it wishing Y. Y. would come back here. This was the book I found was written by Y. Yuan.

My 30 Days by Y. Yuan--Prologue

This is based on my diary that I had written for a month. It was just after autumn had come and every morning, I was thinking whether I needed my coat and muffler or not. That month, October 1996 was the time I spent with the person who I loved. I know that you would like to know his name, but I want it to keep that only in my mind, so I’ll call him “John” in this story because it would be better to make everything clear. John might laugh at me if he noticed that he was called such an ordinal name. Anyway, I’ll tell you the story of my good old month. It was absolutely the most precious time ever.
I met him for the first time at the bar. I was sitting on the sofa, upholstered in leather, and drinking whiskey. Eventually a man walked up and sat in front of me without saying anything. I was so surprised, and got little angry because it was the manner of this bar not to interfere each other, especially me.
From the next page is my diary, which was written from October 6, 1996 to November 3, 1996 and Novemver5, 1997 to December 4, 1997. I wrote it every day in these periods, but I cut some of it for several reasons while editing this book. You know, everybody has several memories that they keep only in their mind. I’m sure that you do, too. And of course, me, too.

My 30 Days by Y. Yuan--Diary

October 4, 1996
From today I start writing a diary to remember the things that happened in my daily life. Another reason that I start this is that today I had kind of a bad experience at the bar. Every time I sat on the sofa in front of the counter and drank some cocktails that the bartender built. He builds good cocktails that fit my mood each day even he did not ask anything. I love the time I spend there after work, but he broke that. He came in and sat in front of me. He didn’t say anything, just sat there. The bartender, really a great man, asked him what he wanted to drink and he replied, “The same one,” pointing to my glass. I couldn’t believe it. Most people just watch me and do not say anything because they know that I like spending time individually. After he went out, the bartender, we, all of us called him M, walked up to me and said, ‘I’m sorry, Y. Y.’
I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so I smiled and said, ‘It is okay.’
I hope that man won’t come to my favorite bar again.

October 11, 1996
It was the first time for me to see the people from Asia, he said. At first I thought he was kind a person who irritated me, but my mind has changed as I talked with him. He said he hasn’t decided the time he can go back to his country, and he doesn’t have a place to stay, so I asked him to come to my room and stay as long as he wanted. We had dinner here and now he is taking a shower.

October 12, 1996
It was Saturday. My boss said I did not have to come to the office, but I had something I wanted to be done before the new week starts, so I left home early in the morning. At that time, John still slept on a sofa in my living room. He said that he slept for more than ten hours. I was surprised to see my room was cleaned up and everything was in the right place when I came home from work. He was such a tidy person, I guess.

October 14, 1996
Today, we walked to the nearest station together because I had a job and he wanted to get a job. We said goodbye there and I took the train which I take every morning. The same day comes and goes, but the one thing that is different from that every day is that he lives with me.

October 16, 1996
The sunlight reflected on John’s cheek beautifully, and his legs were out of our bed sheet. I examined from his legs to his chest, arms, nose, lips, and his twisted hair. When my eyes reached at his eyelids, I remembered his eyes twinkled green, reflecting the light through a window.
When we were having a breakfast, John said that he had a job interview today. We said goodbye at the station as we did every day and he took the train that was bound for the opposite side of my office. I encouraged him to pass the interview. He did not have a formal suit, so I lent him mine, the gray one.

October 19, 1996
It was Saturday so I didn’t have to go to work. John went to see the post while I cooked our breakfast. He rushed and hugged me. “I did it! I got the job,” he said, “Congratulations,” I said. It was the new start of our life. After we had simple dishes, he washed our dishes while I took a bath. He often takes a bath before dinner, and every day he helps household chores, especially cleaning and washing clothes and dishes.

October 20, 1996
John’s work starts from tomorrow. He says that he needs formal suits, so we went to the city to buy so,e. I did not care about him wearing mine, but I wanted to celebrate him opening a new page of his life. He prefers gray to navy, so I bought him a gray one. I was so glad to see him smiling like a boy whose mom bought him a toy or candy.

October 21, 1996
He looked a little nervous when I took a train that came earlier than his and shook my hand and mouthed “Good luck, John.”
While I was in my office, sometimes his face crossed my mind, but today was so busy that I couldn’t spend time thinking about him. When I reached to the closest station, a man ran and hugged me. It was John. I was relieved, seeing his nervousness had vanished and could feel that he did well at the new office.

November 5, 1997
A year has passed since he popped off, and I opened this diary after a year’s abstinence. Even if I cannot see, hug, and kiss him, the days carry on as usual. Today I went to the book store that he liked. I know that he didn’t like reading books, but he always let me check the latest books and waited for me while buying some of them. Every time he said that he loved book stores, but I’d never seen him buying books.
It took about a year to understand the fact that you’re gone. Every day when I walk from the station to my apartment, I remember you’re talking about your job and other things that happened to you on that day.

Y.Y. and I

His diary continued for several pages. Another 30 days might be written as the book’s title said. He, the man who was called John in this book, closed the book. His life was really alike; to tell the truth, it was the same one in this book. And the author’s name, Y. Yuan was definitely his ex-partner’s name. He realized himself that has passed away in 1996, 10 years ago. He has never been aware of whether he was alive or not because it wasn’t an important point. It was true that his memory of the time spent with Y. Y. was interrupted one day in autumn. He had thought that today was the first time in many days to meet Y. Y. but he could not remember why they were separated and how they contacted to agree on a time and place to meet. Finally, he turned off the overhead light to fall asleep again. It was like living a dream. He felt the warmth of someone’s arms around him and he knew that it was Y. Y’s.

Epilogue

It’s like having been living a dream. Even if I dreamed to meet John in my dream every night, he had never appeared. However, on that day, I got up earlier than other weekends, and rushed to down town. When I arrived at the station, a man walked up to me waving his hand. It was John. And we walked together as we had done in the past. When we reached in front of the book store which I love, we promised to meet an hour later. An hour later, I went back to the entrance of the store, but he never came back.

“It’s time to start.” The staff’s voice brought me back to the present. It was just five minutes before my book signing event would start. “Did something good happen?” he asked.

“Nothing special. I was just thinking of my good old days; like being in my dream.” I answered.