Dan Brook is Senior Lecturer Emeritus in the Department of
Sociology and Interdisciplinary Social Sciences at San Jose State
University, from where he organizes the Hands on Thailand program.
His most recent books are
Harboring Happiness: 101 Ways To Be Happy, Sweet Nothings, about
the nature of haiku and the concept of nothing, and Eating the Earth:
The Truth About What We Eat.
Serendipity and Synchronicity in Seoul
Sakura had never expected to fall in love again. Especially with another woman, let alone at this stage in her life. Why would she? She had been with three men before, including her ex-husband, and never imagined an alternative to men besides being alone. There was something about Su-yeon, though, that she just couldn’t resist. Maybe it was Su-yeon’s confidence, or her sharp wit and way with words, or simply the way she laughed at all the right moments. Actually, it wasn’t quite any of those, as adorable as they were. Whatever it was about Su-yeon, it had captured Sakura’s heart.
They met in Seoul, where they had each been on a business trip. They struck up a conversation in a tea shop and hit it off immediately. Sakura and Su-yeon spent the next few days exploring the city together, trying new foods, going to cafes, visiting historic sites, chatting about all sorts of things. And laughing a lot.
Sakura felt comfortable in Seoul, having grown up in Tokyo and visited Seoul several times. She enjoyed traveling, loved big cities, and was good at her job. Su-yeon was raised and lived on Jeju Island and every time she came to Seoul, she was shocked by its huge size, giant crowds, quick pace, and modern dynamism.
It wasn’t until their last night together that things changed. They were walking back to their hotel after dinner, their arms innocently linked, when Su-yeon had stopped Sakura in the middle of the sidewalk.
“I have something to tell you,” Su-yeon had said, her voice low and serious.
“What is it?,” Sakura asked, her heart pounding in her chest and her head feeling light. Sakura had a slight limp from a childhood car accident that she was sometimes more and sometimes less self-conscious of.
“I really like you,” Su-yeon blurted out with determination and desire, her dark almond eyes searching Sakura’s glimmering portals. “I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I just had to tell you how I feel. I hope you understand,” she continued.
Sakura was stunned. She liked to dress sexy, in a stylish and mature sort of way, and often admired how other women dressed and looked, yet she never considered herself attracted nor attractive to women, at least not that way. But the idea of being with Su-yeon was suddenly very appealing. She felt a current of electricity coursing through her entire body and was a bit dizzy. She couldn’t believe what was happening, how she felt, and she was delirious.
“I feel the same way,” Sakura finally whispered, partially choking on her words, her eyes locked with Su-yeon’s in mutual relief and adoration. It felt as if the rest of megacity Seoul had completely disappeared, or at least collapsed into a little world that only included the two of them.
That was how their relationship began. They spent the rest of the night in Su-yeon’s hotel room, exploring each other’s lithe bodies and learning each other’s pleasures. It had been like nothing they had ever experienced before – so passionate, intense, and orgasmic, yet respectful and gentle.
After that magical September night, Su-yeon and Sakura continued to see each other whenever they could: in Seoul again, and also Tokyo, Shanghai, Taipei, Hong Kong, Hanoi, Singapore, Jakarta, Kuala Lumpur, and Bangkok. They enjoyed their precious time, sneaking away from their daily lives to be with each other. They talked about what they wanted for themselves and what they were willing to risk to be together. Their time together in San Francisco was especially thrilling, partly because it remains the only time they have kissed and shown affection in public.
It wasn’t easy. They were both in their forties, successful women with families and careers. Coming out as lesbians would be difficult, and could even be dangerous in their conservative society. Sakura still wasn’t sure she was lesbian, or even bisexual. She only knew who and what she loved, while Su-yeon was comfortable with the label, yet she remained in the closet to most people. In any event, they couldn’t and didn’t deny their strong feelings for each other.
Sakura and Su-yeon continued their relationship, finding many moments of happiness and passion whenever they could. They knew it wasn’t perfect, but it was real, meaningful, and deep, more so than anything else that either of them had ever experienced. And that was all that mattered to them.
