Soon it will be one year since I came back. Each day, the images and memories about Japan become blurrier and weaker. I’m afraid some day I won’t be able to recover them.

Uno de mis varios micro-amores kiotoitas fue un empleado de JR West Japan. Trabajaba en una de las ventanillas de información cerca de la salida central de la estación de Kioto. Cada vez que podía, salía por ese lado para verlo y fantaseaba con acercarme para preguntar cualquier cosa. El último día que estuve en la estación y lo ví, me despedí mentalmente de él también. 

Es difícil encontrar un empleado tan guapo y encantador en el metro de México. 

Yesterday, I suddenly remembered when we used to explore the area around my Kinkakuji apartment, and I couldn’t stop a few tears rolling down my cheeks.

It’s impressive to think about the summers of the past years. Now that I have only a few days left I start to remember…

One year ago I was busy going to the Japanese embassy and worrying about the chances of getting a student visa or not.

Two years ago I was walking around Kyoto melting under the sun. And some days I sat behind him, riding his bike around.

Three years ago I broke my left ankle in the stairs of Harajuku Station. I never ever want to fracture again.

Four years ago I was in university, lived in Cholula, had a Mexican boyfriend. I didn’t know S at all and then…

Next summer where am (are) I (we) going to be?

When I’m with you I’m fifteen again.

You entered “Mexico” in the browser

Chose one picture of Bellas Artes and sparkling lights

And asked me “Where is your house?”

We both laughed.

“You can’t see it in this picture”

“Looks beautiful”

Then we went to Seoul

“It looks nice, too”

“Only the night view”