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Our Engagement

“Hi, I’m John.”
“Oh, hi, I’m Iku.”
Slight befuddlement cross my face –
“Iku, like [the Japanese word for] go. But a different kanji.”

1. Who knew what would come of that?

2. On October 14th, 2007, at around 2am, after a night out and just hours before we had to get up to go to the Sake Festival, I proposed to Iku. It had been just six months since that fateful day in April, beneath the cherry blossom trees on a slightly chilly Saturday evening. To be honest, I didn’t make much of our meeting at that time; seating arrangements and social politics prevented us from speaking. It wasn’t until later, when Iku and her friends were leaving that I briefly spoke to her. I had been walking from the toilet back to our spot, they were leaving for another bar, when one of Iku’s coworkers said:

“Oh we didn’t meet before. And you’re cute!”
Me, grinning like an idiot, slightly taken aback “Oh, so are you.” Noticing Iku in the background, “and you too!”
“So where’re you headed?” I ventured
“To Mac, you should come. Bye!”

3. A couple hours later, after I’d dispensed with a few more drinks, I headed to Mac, partly intrigued by the randomness of that last encounter and partly because I was all greased up and ready for a big night. At Mac I bumped into our friend, Naoko, who unbeknownst to me had already spoken of me to Iku.

“One of my coworkers think you’re cute,” she said
“I know, she told me.”
“No, not that one, the other one. Go talk to her!”
“Well she’s talking that other guy over there,” I countered,
“Don’t be a baby! I’ll go get her!”

4. She went, she grabbed Iku by the arm, and the next thing I knew I had her in mine.

5. We talked about ourselves, of our interests, and of inconsequential things, and half hour or so slid by. She had to work in the morning, so we exchanged numbers and said our goodbyes. I stayed out later, getting home in the morning, sleeping off the hangover for the rest of my weekend, and thinking about who I can ask about this new girl I’d met. I spent the week grilling anyone who knew her for any little it of information they knew. We agreed to meet the next weekend, again at Mac, so come Saturday night I was tired and nervous and seriously in need of a drink.

6. Iku had thought that I would be coming with friends, but I came alone. She was there with a bunch of her friends, who were all looking at me without looking, totally curious about that Japanese looking boy who couldn’t speak Japanese. I was keyed up, full of nervous energy, but we settled into a great groove of conversation, discovering that we had almost everything in common. We got drinks, got drunk, started dancing, and when I shyly reached to hold her closer, she came willingly. I haven’t let her go since.

7. The next day we met for dinner, the Wednesday after we made it official, a week later I confessed my love. A month after I asked her to move in, couple months later she did. I met her parents, she met mine in Australia, we started sharing a life together. Barely six months have passed and I can’t remember what life was like before her; it was not so much going from Black and White to Technicolor as being able to see after an eternity of blindness. I hate waking alone, and my favourite time of day is when I come home to find her there, with her cute librarian glasses and a ready grin.

8. I asked her once when she fell in love with me, and she said it was when she saw my photographs on my website. Iku, also an avid photographer, believes that you can see a person’s personality reflected in their photography, and once she saw mine she knew I was the one.

9. When she said that, I knew she was the one too.

• Posted in LeftBrain on the 24.10.2007 @ 12:35:52 AM, Permanent Link
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