Just the other day I was reading an old online article about love confessions. I’m not going to paraphrase it here but you can read the full thing for yourself at Tofugu’s Japan’s ‘Love Confessing’ Culture. Before this happened, Director Takahiro Miki’s “Hot Road” (as sweetly framed above by Tosaka Hiroomi and Nounen Rena) had arrived in the mail, and I politely asked (Read: forced with a chopstick at his throat) my guy to watch it with me.
In the film, there is a scene where Haruyama gives Kazuki a ride home, and instead of thanking him, she glares and walks away. Feeling tickled by a challenge, he trounces after her, throws an arm over her shoulder and asks, “Wanna be my girl?” Of course, Kazuki being Kazuki shoots him the dirtiest look a girl can give to a guy as hot as Haruyama. Everything else was a bit of a nostalgic and emotional blur, but that one simple exchange remained a clear image in my head for several days afterward. The more I thought about it, the more distanced I felt from it – A total continental drift was happening within me. And yet I felt this strong yearning. It slowly and destructively dawned on me later on that this phenomenon that had me gushing in shoujo mangas was something I had never experienced firsthand nor had I ever had the courage to do it myself. (Thus the search online which lead me to Tofugu.)
The closest thing I got to a “confession” was indirectly and by a huddle of pock-faced teenage girls. When I was in 8th grade, I was chosen to be part of the camera crew that was assigned to take pictures at the school dance. You know, those gawky, dorky teenagers with a camera strapped around their necks who flash you the moment you enter the door? Yep, that was me. While my friend was showing me how to use the Polaroid, a group of girls in navy and white ascended on me and dragged me to the soccer field. I thought they were going to beat me up. I’m going to get beat up, I’m going to get beat up, I’m going to get beat up. Instead, they questioned me about some guy who’s name I never even heard of…and still can’t remember to this day. (Sorry, Mystery Guy.)
“Who?” I sputtered.
“—-” The loudest one who seemed to be the leader said. “He likes you. You guys should go out.”
“I don’t even know him…”
She pointed at a fuzzy white blob far away at the basketball court. I squinted myopically in the direction of her finger. One of the few times I wished I could have ditched my vanity and just wear those dorky bifocals.
“No, thank you… There’s someone else I like.” And that part was true at least. There was someone else I liked – An older guy from another school who painted his finger nails black and stuck safety pins into his backpack.
They all seemed slightly disappointed and the crowd dispersed.
When I think about my string of relationships afterward, no confession ever happened. My Cantonese boyfriend and I just happened to share a mutual friend, and so we naturally hung out together, naturally got to talking, and then naturally but rather awkwardly we kissed. And even then it took me five years of feeling insecure to ask him the big question: “What are we?” And even now, most of the guys who are interested text me to ask me out. Like at 2 am in the morning. Like when I can’t even remember what my name is and whether I’m actually wearing clothes or not. (That’s how tiring work can be, OK?)
Have you ever experienced this phenomenon? And if not, what would be your ideal “kokuhaku” situation?
Anyway, I’m really sorry, guys. I know there should be more today, but I’m really too tired. I was reaching out for too much, trying to finish the quality checks and making credit pages and stuff for other projects. I just can’t do it. I can’t imagine being able to do it this month. I still have 25 more hours to go of volunteer work. What the hell did I get myself into?
Please settle with this unsatisfying chapter of Sekine’s Love. At least for another week. I really need to do my thank you spiel here. This was officially uruumi’s last chapter with the team; Megan did a heck of a lot of prep work; skippyskippy pitched in with wonderful typesets; octo with her PR. And Swirly Owl, especially you, who I manhandled into cleaning the FIRST four pages of Chapter 27… because I thought it was the LAST four pages of Chapter 26. Even though your cleans won’t debut until the next chapter, you along with the rest of the crew still deserve a deep bow. Thank you guys! Download Here | READ ONLINE HERE
Well my first confession(and only till now) was in my 8th grade(now im in my first yr). I used to text with a friend of mine and he often used to flirt a bit and I used to play along(we both meant it as a joke). Then once he asked me out on a date and told me he liked me(text). I replied sure or something as I though he was still joking. The next day at school he said he was serious, and well realizing that I immediately turned him down as it I was still in 8th grade and I never had seen him in that way. The confession itself wasn’t anything special but his attempts later on to win me were something. I particularly remember one incident. We both played for our school basketball team. One day after practice he was again asking why can’t I accept him and just to impress me he even did quite a difficult trick with the basketball(it was his first successful attempt. I wasn’t impressed at that time but later on when I think back it did make an impression). I did go out with him later on a few months later and I found out that originally he did mean his confession as a joke, but later when he thought about it the whole day he fell for me for real. Well we lasted for a year. Now we don’t really talk with each other but atleast there are no bitter or awkward feelings(I hope so. I haven’t met after changing schools).
I’ve been confessed to three times in my life (maybe four…one was rather ambiguous in nature) and they each were more unremarkable than the one before until my third (or fourth) and latest one in which one of my co-workers told me he had a thing for me, knowing that I was engaged, and that he’d been harbouring this crush for the past year or so. The incident itself wasn’t spectacular but as soon as he spoke those words, I felt nauseated and heart-broken because at that moment, I knew that my engagement was a mistake; not because I had suddenly fallen for this other dude, but because I was getting married for all the wrong reasons. The ensuing months were riddled with emotional breakdowns, riveting epiphanies and self-doubt.
Anyway, I ended up marrying the guy (the co-worker who confessed to me) after a few years and I like to think that he was a fork in the road that altered my life quite inexplicably. It took me 8 years (5 years dating, 3 years married) to realize that I love him and that he is one of the best things that has happened to me.
As a parting note, I don’t particularly think confessions are of any importance and are highly romanticized. They usually mean little in practise, but I feel that depending on the delivery, the sincerity and the source that it comes from, the impact of a confession is more important than the act itself.
The only confession story I have is one I kind of wish hadn’t happened.
I was in my first year of college and had known this guy for a couple of weeks. We were spending a lot of time together, and I definitely had a bit of a crush on him. One day he asked me to come up to his dorm room because he wanted to “talk.” Of course I got very nervous, having no experience with guys. So I went to his dorm room and as we sat trembling at opposite ends of his couch, he confessed that he liked me, and asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I said I liked him too, but rather than feeling happy, I felt awful. So we sat there awkwardly and then watched an episode of Now and Then, Here and There (we were both otaku), then I was going to leave and he asked if he could give me a hug. I said OK, and right as we were (chastely) hugging, his RA bust in and asked if I wanted to join the floor in eating dinner together. Well, noooo, not after that terrible awkwardness!
Anyway, after that I left and walked around campus crying. The next week was basically one long panic attack for me, and I avoided the poor boy whenever possible until he finally confronted me on instant message and I begged to go back to being friends (I feel horrible about using IM, but I really couldn’t face him at all). Things continued to be awkward between us. I told him I did like him, but I just wasn’t ready for all of this. He said he would wait for me, and I said he didn’t have to. He ended up dating two of my friends, one for 10 days, the other for two years, after which he broke her heart because he wanted to be single again.
So it was a love confession, but rather than sparkles and cherry blossoms, it ended in awkwardness and heartache, and I lost what could’ve been a good friend. I wonder if things would’ve gone better if he had let things develop on their own rather than forcing a confession, freaking me out, but of course there’s no way of knowing. (I blame myself too, of course.)
Ahh, but I still do like reading shoujo/josei romance, heh.
I saw Now and Then, Here and There as well…over a decade or more ago? I cried so hard my eyes were bruised the next morning! Some of the scenes were so hard to watch because I kept thinking about how they were just kids and that kind of stuff absolutely breaks my heart. (;_;)
Anyway, you must have felt so awkward sitting there with him after that. That was definitely NO time to be thinking about anime. I’m sure your mind must have been racing with all sorts of weird thoughts and feelings. I’m no judge on matters of the heart, but in your situation you probably had some reservations. Maybe it’s because you didn’t know him for long and he was moving too fast? It’s pretty hard to abandon yourself entirely to a relationship when it’s only been a matter of weeks. From experience though, sometimes it’s better to remain friends. The last guy I was seeing was an example of this. I almost wish we had remained friends and not dated behind because after the dust settled…we became like total strangers.
I get what you’re saying though. Not all confessions turn out like they do in romance manga. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy reading them. 🙂
First of all, I just want to say how much I appreciate what you and your team are doing. I found one of the manga you scanned (Nina, My Love) a couple years ago, and only recently found more of your scans here. As a guy who grew up reading mostly shonen, I can’t thank you enough for helping me discover authors I would otherwise never have known and whose work are now my most beloved.
Anyways, despite a strong manga culture, a lot of these manga don’t get official releases where I live. Any chance you know how I can contact the publishers, or even better the authors? At this moment I have just finished my school and am now starting my career in the publishing world. I want to do all I can to help bring their work here. Or at least show my support for them and let them know their work have enough appeal to have reached me. Is it possible that you help me? Can I contact you first through any private channel?
Nonetheless, thank you so much for helping us fans gain access to some truly marvellous manga. Hope you continue on your work, and I wish you all the best.
Sincerely,
D
Hi D. Thanks for your thoughtful comment. Unfortunately I know no way of contacting the authors unless you know Japanese and can send it to their fan mail addresses/email. I have sent ones to Kawachi Haruka sensei through the one listed on her professional blog.
I had a childhood friend, who was also a far relative of mine. We were the same age. I used to be a tomboy living in mountains(working in a cherry garden) back then with no understanding of girly cuteness and love and such. I was seeing him as a very dear friend. He was so funny and sweet and since he lost his mother and had a good for nothing father, he had a kind of a self made characteristic, so after me losing my brother, he tried to cheer me up. He played a one-hour stand up comedy for me. I still cherish that cheerful theater. I laughed till I got stomach ache. One they he bought me a miniature china tea set with rose buds(very pretty, I still have it) and his grandma gave it away what he was thinking… Of course I was still clueless, until I wrestled with his cousin over something stupid (Being tomboy and all). Right when the cousin was losing to me in strength he shouted to him “see what your wife is made of?”Hahaha. Of course me being the clueless tomboy took it as a childhood joke with a slight shock. But my heart was moved after all. I should be honest here. Unfortunately life was much cruel to him and I didn’t see him again after becoming adults… Oh, good old childhood days. So my first confession was when I was knocking another guy to the ground! My first kiss is even more rediculous. It happened on my grandma’s wake. I was 17 and still clueless. I went for getting condolences from an old(innocent looking) grandpa standing there and came back with watery wet lips.T_T (Why am I remembering Sekine suddenly?) Not that I did nothing! I stretched my lips to one side and saved half of it, though a little late! So I am immune to dreams of any FIRST lovey dovey stuff! Let’s hope for the seconds. Now let’s have some lavender tea. It’s good for nerves.
Great work, Stiletto Heels. Thanks very much for Sekine.
Thanks for the chapter. 🙂
I just read the article on “love confessions” and the same holds true for LatinAmerica, we do not use the word “love” so freely, we use instead “like”, as in “I really like this song” but never “I really love this song”. In fact, we rarely tell our parents we love them, as wrong as that may seem, but we do reserve “I love you” for when the moment is right and we know it will come across with the whole meaning of the word.
Thus, love confessions in some regions of Latinamerica are special and hard to come by, we tell each other “I really like you, do you want to be my girlfriend” because there’s a need to state clearly our intentions, the exclusivity for one another.
That’s why I thought that my, then just a friend, must’ve not understood the difference in use of “love” between our cultures.
Wow, thank you so much, everyone at stiletto heels.
You are right Hats99, I didn’t realize it until reading your note, the reason I like Josei stories is because Id like to vicariously experience all those situations, all those what ifs, while living the comfort of my secure relationship.
My favorite, and probably only confession I ever had (maybe I forgot all others because it’s THE best for me)
is from a guy I had only met three weeks before he confessed.
A few days after meeting he asked me if I could go with him to greet his parents who were visiting the region, they were staying at a beach condo near our town, he told his parents he wanted to introduce them to a new friend he had.
We arrived to the condo, I was dressed very proper, but I was quiet the whole time, after we said our goodbyes he asked me if we could take a walk on the beach.
It was December 29, 1994.
It was in the south, so it’s not particularly cold at that time of year, yet I was shivering as we walked, I knew I felt nervous but I kept telling myself all these three weeks I felt very comfortable with him, as a very familiar friend, but there were tinges of an extra feeling, attraction? I wasn’t sure, I definitely found him handsome, but that alone does not translate to deep emotions, we only knew each other for three weeks after all.
As we walked he turned to me and told me, in my language, “I love you”.
I laughed at him.
I said, you don’t mean that, you are probably trying to say “I like you”, we don’t know each other that well. He replied in English, with a dead serious look in his face “I’m falling for you”
And he grabbed my face and gave me the sweetest kiss I have ever had in my whole life, to this day, after 19 years of marriage, it is still the kiss to end all kisses.
What a sweet and wonderful experience! I wonder which country he’s from. My country – America? In America, everything is about love. We use it with nearly everything. Maybe a little too much and too easy?
Anyway some men are visual creatures. Three weeks is plenty of time to see many aspects of you that he must have fallen in love with. Things you do and the way you look doing it that you may not have noticed about yourself.
Cherish those moments and its memories for what they are which I’m sure you do because you speak of it so fondly. It certainly sounds like a very beautiful snippet of your life. 🙂
He is American.
Yes, I cherish it, and it’s little moments like those that remind you to remove all the clutter and noise that may be buzzing around your relationship and remember to go back to that simplicity in each other. He proposed marriage a little over 4 mos after that confession. The words he used during the proposal convinced me he was the guy for me, he asked me if I would allow him the honor of calling himself my husband.
Hohmahgosh! I had an inkling you were talking about your husband earlier, but now that you’ve said it for real that has to be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. *Heart bursts into a million different pieces*