wtf too early to be up

Ew. Begads. I woke up at just before 4am.
Great, even though I told him that I'm not feeling too hot after sitting on my butt and drinking fake beer for the past zillion months, he wants me to bring my 'sexy swimwear' so that we can go to the pool at the complex where his mother lives.
This is a nice idea, to see the Phoenix sky at night, to sit in the bubbling jacuzzi, but I don't have sexy swimwear. I have some dollar absolutely gross Walmart bikini bottoms - bright neon tiger print - and that's it, bought for Bora Bora, if ever I make it there, and to swim in under cover of night or a solar eclipse.
I don't do sexy swimwear and never have.
And I certainly don't do it whilst sporting a fake beer belly.
It's gonna be a huge wake-up call for him when I struggle to swing my legs over his shoulders, that's for sure.
Fck. I wish I was as excited as he is.
I just feel sick inside, carrying so much pressure from the past year with me, being expected to act normal, when inside I am fcked up.
This is why it was important for him to come here pre-this trip. It would have been the best money he'd ever spent, ever, on a flight, and it would have taken this pressure off me.
C'est la fcking vie.
Sigh, step by step, I just wish that I had the capacity to run into his arms, like in a movie, instead of feeling so fcked up still. He could have had that, now he's gonna have to deal with Damaged Me, or Daily Mail for short.
I did warn him.
Hey, maybe I'll be fine, who knows.
But I would rather have known 100% that I was going to be fine, then I could truly relish this trip for the new beginning it is supposed to be.

The tailor's shop is the one-story shuttered shop in the distance

In other news, and I have been meaning to write about this for over a week now, I think the Tailor might have died.
His shutters have remained down since the last day I saw him.
Up until that day, our eyes had never met.
Instead I merely saw him, depending on the time I was cycling past, either opening his shutters, or putting the shade cloth over the south-facing cabinet.
I leave for school between 7:20 am and 7:50am and have always seen him at some stage of the opening shop process.
About a week ago he was outside and lifting up the shutter to the door.
I was thinking to myself, 'I really want to give this gentleman a New Year card because it warms my heart each morning seeing him open up shop', you know, the familiarity of it, and all that jazz.
Just as I thought this, he turned around and our eyes met.
I cycled on by.
The next day his shop was closed.
And the day after.
And the day after that.
And it's still closed.
I think I might have seen some people wearing black clothes soon after the last day I saw him.
I really hope that he's either gone on vacation or has retired finally. Unfortunately, both these things - an extended vacation or retirement 'during' a fiscal year - are not usually the norm in Japan.
I now feel sad each time I cycle past his little shop.