I`ve always cherished, somewhere in my heart, the belief that longing is the strongest feeling of them all, the deepest emotion anyone can feel. Because it knows no bounds, doesn`t abide by mind`s carefully constructed rules and, most importantly, never deserts you. Once it`s settled in your being, it builds a nest inside and continues to grow throughout your life. Even during the utmost happiness or the drowning despair, the life of one who feels it is permeated, like the delicate petals of flowers in the transient wind of spring.

I`ve longed for something my entire life. I know how it feels to contain yourself to hopeless, unrequited earning every second of every fleeting thought. And I settled for it, succumbed to the notion of it being there, somewhere alongside the lines that so graciously shape my life. I am prone to dream about other chances, other destinies mapped out in front of me, willing to carry my footstepts to different outcomes. I am content to feed on whims, to prey on soft, inarticulate looks and ethereally beautiful moments of what ifs. I was never capable to possess the strength to demand more than this, to seek the concrete walls of an ordinary existence.

So now all I can do is understand. That all is lost when it comes to him, that the little girl on the bridge will have to embrace the soothing mists of the past as all there will ever be, that geishas don`t fulfill their hidden expectations or foolish chymeras. That a lifetime stuck in silence is the ony, the wisest way to proceed when it comes to the Chairman. So I do the understanding, but I can`t deject the longing – it`s ironic how we long for things that vanish, even thought the feeling itself never does. Because I can`t replace longing with numbness, for I`ll drown in my own lonely soul, just like my eyes have always cautioned me against. I can`t replace the longing, I cannot even ignore it. But I can choose to feel it, a secret yet ubiquitous part of me at the same time, like an inward projection of the bottom of the sea.

Sometimes there is more strength in letting go than in pushing thorough, because of its finality. I am aware that I will never get what I wanted for so many years and I choose not to be consumed by the lingering traces of despair. I won`t turn to drinking away my sorrows, to losing myself in some distant part of the world, to turning bitter and angry, like that phantasm of a girl that ruled over me as a child, though I understand her all too well now. It`s easy to slip, it`s unbearably hard to keep your balance. That`s why I consider myself strong now.

I know I disgraced myself almost beyond repair that night with the foreigner. I only wanted to distance myself from Nobu, to show him that my life still belongs to me, though I`ve always suspected that it doesn`t, not really. I wanted for him to lose me, but it turns out I lost something just as painfully then. But can you lose something that you never had...I don`t believe in that anymore. I never had the Chairman, I never would have anyway. I`ve only torn apart the roots of my emotions for him, I turned him from a hopeless dream to an overwhelming certainty of nothingness. It may even be better this way, for now I can more resolutely perform my duties and complete my responsibilities as a geisha – that is, if I still am looked upon as one, after my humiliating behavior.

It seems that I had to deprive myself of any remaining pretense at love, in order to see my life for what it is.

The words ring surprisingly clear in my ears. For a moment, I almost can`t believe them – the sole possibility of someone ever wanting me again after my reproachable conduct seems like another one of my foolish, but oh-so sweet fantasies. I m overwhelmed by the notion that anyone would seek me now, single me out as a suitable companion – someone who is generous and important, on top of it all. Perhaps generous enough to forgive, to understand my lacks of judgement when I can`t come to terms with them myself. But I know now that, as my heart dies a slow death, it isn`t the Chairman. He doesn`t need me, not so completely as to openly call for me after everything has been said and done.

Maybe it is Nobu, though he surely must be aware of the rumors. Of the truths, I remind myself bitterly. He said to me that I would be death to him if I gave myself to another particular statement started the whole train of thought, has set in motion that mistake. Perhaps it was a confession of his affections, it strikes me now, after the initial shock of his bluntness subsided. Perhaps he meant it, or perhaps not. Perhaps he would endure, as we all do. But I can`t ponder on that too long, either, I don`t want to account for its implications.

So I prepare myself the best way I can, use all the beauty tricks I`ve learnt throughout the years to entrance this generous suitor. I have my hair combed, then tamed into an intricate style that manages to bring out my features. I paint my face white, a not so fitting color after all, but I have to admit that it feels like a shiled from all my thoughts, along with the red lips and coal-black eyeliner. A shield from memories, a protector from longing. A protector from that part of me that still longs for freedom, that wants to be in control of my own destiny, though I`ve vowed never to entertain such perilous thoughts again.

I feel curiosity rise in my chest as the time of the meeting approaches and I welcome the feeling like an old friend, distracting me from the underlying longing. It`s the best I can do now and I hope with all my heart that it will be enough. I`m once again in no position to demand and certainly in no position to refuse. My mind has already been made.

The place my suitor has chosen is a garden I remember admiring once before, a long time ago. Perhaps even before the war. It`s a beautiful place, with raw and vivid flowers of eye-catching colors and somehow frail, elegant trees that guide it from afar. It`s funny how the flowers seem the strong ones, while the trees are supposed to watch over them. It`s a very private, intimate place and it seems to contain the dizziness of anticipation it its air.

I`m here a little early, taking in my surrounding, deriving pleasure from nature`s unchangeable, unsurpassable beauty. I wonder what will become of me as the years pass by. The hair whitens, the waist becomes more plump, the red lips lose their charm. Only the eyes remain, holding a story not many can decipher.

And then I happen to see the person approaching, with demure, steady steps, bringing with him the more serious colours of autumn and the harshness of winter. And I think about the sea changing itself under the guidance of every season, yet staying true to its dream-like nature.

It is Nobu.

Honestly, I don`t think I expected anyone else anymore.