I used to be the sort of guy who was up for almost anything. Hiking in the wilderness? I’ll bring the scotch and chocolate. Snorkeling with dolphins? Bet I can ride one before you can. Getting lost in Central America? Ten bucks says I can take being beaten and sodomized more times than you!

But something happened along the way. I became too careful, too controlling of my surroundings, too scared about the what ifs. I moved to Tokyo. Sure, I can blame it on getting older, thinking too much and my overall paranoia. But I really think Tokyo pushed me over the edge.

I arrived here a supportive spouse, missing New York but ready to take on the challenge of living in a foreign country, prepared to start a new job. And here I am on a Friday night at 11:00pm alone, jobless, the very picture of a housewife. My partner out late yet again because of work, work related fun or both.

I left a career and my family and friends to move to the other side of the world and sometimes I wonder what for. Oh, yeah. I love my partner. I guess it’s true that love makes you do stupid things. I’m a fool.