A hundred years ago when I started this blog, there was a guy nicknamed TokyoBoy. We met in Japan during student orientation. He’s a year older than me and called Minnesota home. We stopped talking when I was in London have I sent an angry email a little too quickly… well, that wasn’t the only thing, but it was the beginning of the end of whatever it was.
I had a couple strange, twilight zone things happen with him. I had a nightmare about his health and when I got to my office, there was an email that he had been hospitalized while I was having the dream. If I saw someone wearing a Minnesota sweatshirt, I would have an email waiting for me. Blah, blah, blah.
He came home from Japan, I saw him in Minnesota, I moved to London, things did not work out. His phone number is long deleted from my phone and apparently I never wrote it down. He has zero digital footprint and my best sluething turns up only an empty amazon wish list.
All I want to know is whether or not he was on that bridge. I can’t believe how much it tightened my chest when I saw the photographs. Could he be there? Should I call? What do I do? I found someone with the same last name and similar looks on MySpace and wrote him… who knows. TokyoBoy, if you read this, I hope you are okay.
UPDATE: Through the power of Grayskull… no, wait, MySpace… I found someone who knows him and he’s okay. I can go back to my regularly scheduled worry.
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