Someone pointed out that in the very last blog, I did not mention Junko... my secret girlfriend and ex-stalker that I'm sleeping with... like, WTF Andrew?! You last wrote that she had just come over... and then the next blog dealing with the next morning... nothing.
So... it's still Tuesday, November 12, 1991. Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. I found this addendum folded up and placed in my diary on the next page. How could I have forgotten about this event?
It's true. Junko wasn't actually there at my apartment when I woke up. Wholly unlike herself when she was stalking me and dropping out of university to devote herself to me, stalking me some more, not letting me sleep because we had to have sex, more stalking, some stockings, more stalking... well, this was a refreshing change of pace.
We still haven't been anywhere together as a couple outside of my apartment. I'm unsure if she's ashamed of me or just likes her secret boyfriend, or if she's just plain nuts - whatever. She let me sleep after using me for a couple of hours (and vice versa), and Junko being Junko means I have to used to her disappearing like Batman when the day breaks.
Cripes... does that make me Catwoman? Me-ow!
There was no note. No message scrawled in lipstick on my bathroom mirror. No extra toothbrush on the sink. Not even evidence of a glass of orange juice being drunk.
If it wasn't for that smell of apple blossoms in the air - and an idiotic grin on my face along with some chaffing - I might suspect that I was going crazy and had imagined her being there.
But... when I get dressed in the morning after a shower, I go to another room where I keep my clothes. I pull out the underwear drawer and see that she has taken all of my underwear...
... and replaced them with a single pair of her own that I recognize from the night before.
Somewhere going commando,
Andrew Joseph
So... it's still Tuesday, November 12, 1991. Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. I found this addendum folded up and placed in my diary on the next page. How could I have forgotten about this event?
It's true. Junko wasn't actually there at my apartment when I woke up. Wholly unlike herself when she was stalking me and dropping out of university to devote herself to me, stalking me some more, not letting me sleep because we had to have sex, more stalking, some stockings, more stalking... well, this was a refreshing change of pace.
We still haven't been anywhere together as a couple outside of my apartment. I'm unsure if she's ashamed of me or just likes her secret boyfriend, or if she's just plain nuts - whatever. She let me sleep after using me for a couple of hours (and vice versa), and Junko being Junko means I have to used to her disappearing like Batman when the day breaks.
Cripes... does that make me Catwoman? Me-ow!
There was no note. No message scrawled in lipstick on my bathroom mirror. No extra toothbrush on the sink. Not even evidence of a glass of orange juice being drunk.
If it wasn't for that smell of apple blossoms in the air - and an idiotic grin on my face along with some chaffing - I might suspect that I was going crazy and had imagined her being there.
But... when I get dressed in the morning after a shower, I go to another room where I keep my clothes. I pull out the underwear drawer and see that she has taken all of my underwear...
... and replaced them with a single pair of her own that I recognize from the night before.
Somewhere going commando,
Andrew Joseph
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