by Telly McGaha
It was so different from America: the language, the food, the culture, the alphabet. At times, it was too much and I was overwhelmed trying to process it all, but I loved every minute of it. I also loved you. You took me to the café to get okonomiyaki, the regional dish of Hiroshima. I tried it but didn’t like it and it stunned the entire restaurant, and embarrassed you when I asked the chef for salt. That meant, in your eyes, I could never live in Japan and could never be with you, but did you ever stop to think you should’ve ordered me the shrimp and cheese okonomiyaki instead of the udon?
Telly McGaha loves writing poetry and posts it here. He still travels abroad, still lives in the United States, still loves Japan and still doesn’t like okonomiyaki.