The day I left for Tokyo, I had less to pack than I thought. When I said "I'm going to be an actor," the words felt like something I didn't quite understand yet myself.

I never told her clearly where I was going. Telling her wouldn't have changed anything, and still, not telling her was the one thing I chose.

From the bullet train window, I watched the view turn into places I didn't know, and for a while I didn't say a word.