Last night Justin left Tao Li Yuan with a cigarette and a lighter in his hands. I got up from my books and ran after him; he doesn't smoke. He told me he felt heavy, and the root of the problem was Korean culture. While he tried to explain his feelings the language barrier was evident to both of us. He can speak Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and English-and I've listen his proficiency with these languages in order from best to worst. In Korea, seniority is a big, big deal. Justin told me it's hard to even be friends with someone older or younger than you. He doesn't have a close Korean guy friend here at Jiao Da. His closest friends are Yoon and I. Yoon lives off campus and is busy a lot, and I am not Korean.

Justin is a good guy, I will be there for him like I was last night, and I believe he will be there for me just as he has done many times in the past. He's brought me water when I was hung over, introduced me to pretty girls, helped my Chinese speaking, forced me to study at the library, and even been my manager when I was a model. He told me he wanted his kids to visit me one day in the States. He's my man.