On Saying Good-bye M.Y. Doshisha International Jr/Sr High School, Kyoto, Japan

I was never great at good-byes. Being an introverted person, I found it hard to express my emotions, especially those linked close to the heart. Somehow farewells never touched me like they did everyone else. They all thought I was some kind of super girl; being able to hold back the tears like I do. I think it is because part of me always seems to think that the person will be back. Or maybe it is because I don't know how to show my emotions. It is something I've always felt, I don't know why. I suppose it's just in my genetics. My family doesn't cry much and neither do I. March fourth, 1996. For me, it is a date to remember. It is the day that I met my best friend to be in California. Toni Chau: like myself was, a quiet and shy girl. Somehow I knew she was the athletic type. Her body was built like that of a basketball player: you know, the long, slender arms and legs. I could just tell. The first day I went to school, I was given the name "Kay" by my teacher. I walked into the classroom, and my nameplate read Kay. I never did find out why my teacher named me Kay. That name just stuck. In fact, it was months later that my friends found out that my real name was Masayo. I would have explained earlier, but I couldn't speak English. I couldn't even write lower-case letters when I first went to the United States. ("b" and "d" gave me a tough time). I was standing at the corner of the playground during recess, not knowing what to do. The next moment, an Asian girl walked cautiously towards me as if I was going to take her head off with a snap of my fingers. I can't remember what exactly she said since I couldn't understand it, but she introduced herself to me as Toni. It was she who taught me English. "Book," Toni said opening and closing her hands, pretending to read a book. "Book," I repeated, pointing to our "Oh, California" textbook. That's how it all started. Toni and Kay. We did everything together: watched movies, cooked muffins, went to summer camps, etc. If someone wanted to know where Toni was, they'd ask, "Where's Kay?" We were inseparable. No, we were more than inseparable. We were the awesome duo. Times were good. Times were fun. Times were simple. Ever since I came to Bullis Elementary School in the fourth grade, I knew I'd have to go back to Japan. And to think, I'd had, what, six years to come up with the perfect good-bye statement, but of course I had to wait until the last possible moment. I remember exactly the last moment I saw her. We had just had a going-away party. It was raining while we all waited for our rides outside of Togo's, the restaurant where we had the party. The number of people at the party was reducing, and soon it was just Toni and I. I remember asking if we should have a sleepover at one of our houses. You know, just for the hell of it. Seeing as how it was one of my last nights in California, I thought it was necessary to spend as much time as possible with her. That night, the night of the sleepover, nothing much happened. We were both so tired; I believe "pooped" was the word we used then. We were pooped. One of my last nights and we couldn't even stay awake to do anything memorable. Some friend I was. The following morning wasn't much better. I only had a few minutes until I had to depart. The farewell was sad, but it was short. It wasn't a very good good-bye; far from being hugs and kisses and puppies and tears. It was, well, just a hug. No tears, just a hug. To sum it up, it sucked. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I'd never see her again, but I didn't want to believe it. On the inside, my mind was playing cool. It felt like I was just going to see her the very next day. It's been a few years now. It's true what they say: you don't know how much you love someone until they're gone. It's been too long since I've seen her, so I constantly turn to my photo album. It was just another ordinary day when it happened. As I looked down at the picture, a single teardrop landed on the glossy transparency. Once a single teardrop fell, the tears didn't stop, and along with it came the emotions that were buried deep inside. It wasn't fair. Why did I have to move back to Japan? I felt like a part of me was torn away. It wasn't fair that I only got to be her friend for six years. It wasn't long enough. I wanted more. I wanted to see her prom picture, and I wanted to be there when she and her boyfriend had a fight. I felt like I was missing out on so much. I felt so bad knowing that her best friend in California got to be there while I didn't. And I never even got to say good-bye; a real good-bye.

Child Research Net would like to thank the Doshisha International Junior/Senior High School and Masayo Yamada, student and author, for permitting reproduction of this article on the CRN web site.

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