My first instinct is to hate you.

Again, this is one of those questions that seems like a good idea. It is easy to come up with and most folks think it’s simple to answer. Do you miss your dead cat? Or whatever might be the proper emotional equivalent, say playing football in high school or attending college in a trendy city. Why do we ask people all the time this sort of thing?

Oh, you really enjoyed something? Do you regret not having it anymore? Come on.

That’s my first instinct because I enjoy lashing out at strawmen of my own creation. The reality is this is a hard question to answer. People want to hear it I think, because it represents something all humans must experience.

Loss. Even if we’re not consciously thinking about it we want to know how other people handle this painful fact of life. I’m by no means an expert on the subject, I have had to cope with relatively little loss on the grand scale. Won’t stop me from trying.

Of course, I miss things about Japan. For example, not having to drive anywhere. At least once a month I’m caught behind a massive accident on the idiotically planned road that gets me from town to my home. People drive like idiots. I’m frankly shocked at just how blasé people can be about these multi-ton death machines they’ve been given control over.

Shocking little oversite as well. All I had to do to renew my license after years of being away was a road sign identification test. Google cars can’t come fast enough for me to be honest.

I could go on forever about how much I hate driving. It would be easier to just point out when I enjoy it. During a sunny day on an empty straight road with good music playing. That’s it. Trains are their own type of drag but at least you can take a quick nap on your way somewhere. Try that while driving and see how well it works out for you.

The other day I watched a video of a train leaving the station just for the memories. Nothing interesting or special about it. Only the most basic arrival and departure imaginable.

I miss it. I miss the friends I made. The friendships I had and the ones I missed out on because they entered my life too near to my departure. I made friends in literal classes on how to be funny. Some of my best I met while seated in parks underneath a rain of flower petals. I also made friends in bars who invited me to their weddings after a few (hundred) drinks. Then I got to know their kids as they grew from a thought experiment into actual tiny humans.

Those people are 5000 miles away from me now.

I suppose this is a part of growing older. Life is fluid especially when it comes to human relationships. Even if you stay in one place for all of your life chances are a number of folks you grow close to will leave. Maybe they’ll be gone only a few years, maybe you’ll never see them again. Chances are good you’ll miss them.

Or maybe not. Maybe they were objectively terrible.

Plenty of people have written and will undoubtedly continue to write about all the things they miss about Japan. The food, how everything is designed to be cute, the earthquakes, trains. Just kidding, nobody likes that constant cuteness design aesthetic.

It’s easy to miss the things you can experience on a vacation. Like beer vending machines. The harder things are the ones that took years to build. Things you can’t see on a JR Rail Pass or experience thanks to a guidebook. And this isn’t just limited to Japan. However, the answer to your question is quite different depending on who you ask.

The vacationer can use it as an excuse to describe the wonders of their trip. For the lapsed expat, it just reminds them of everything they gave up for hope of a better life. The only consolation is it gets easier with time. You focus on your life and goals. Days, weeks, and years pass. You hold tight to the good memories. New people enter your orbit and the friendships can be just as strong.

Or maybe not. Such is life. Don’t worry about it.