“I love the Blond Girl,” says the young Blond girl, sitting in a pink chair at a café in the middle of the country.

She’s a 19-year-old from a small town in the South.

She is the daughter of an American woman and a Japanese man, and she was born in the United States.

Her mother died when she was still a baby.

Her father, a fisherman, had emigrated from Japan.

His wife was from Taiwan, and they lived in a small house with their children.

“I want to go to the US,” says this young woman, who has a beautiful face and a lovely voice.

She tells me her father was a teacher and her mother was a doctor.

She speaks in a soft and natural voice.

“My name is Chloe.”

She says she has always loved America.

“It’s a big country.”

She looks at me with a smile.

I ask her what her family was like.

She says, “They were nice people.”

I ask if she ever felt lonely.

“No.

They never made me feel lonely.”

She doesn’t sound sorry.

“They always had lots of fun.”

I asked her if she wanted to come to the United State someday.

“Yes.”

She nods.

The young woman is a student at an international high school. “

And if you ever want to come here, we’ll be there.”

The young woman is a student at an international high school.

She hopes to go back to Japan someday, and now she wants to share her story.

“But the Japanese government doesn’t like me,” she says.

She explains that, since she was a child, she has had constant anxiety.

Her school principal has told her that she is too young to go and study abroad.

I say I understand, and ask her why.

“She’s a girl.

She doesn and she’s very shy,” she replies.

She goes on to explain how she felt lonely and isolated at home and how she had a strong sense of pride.

She explained that she was bullied a lot, and that her father had a crush on her and he used to beat her up for it.

“He’s a very kind man, very gentle and sweet, but he always made me take responsibility for everything,” she said.

The girl said she felt she was not accepted by her family in Japan.

“There’s not enough to eat.

They don’t know what we have.

I have no friends.

I don’t feel like a real person,” she explained.

“Every day I feel sad because I feel that I’m not good enough, and I feel like I can’t do anything.”

I explain that, if she wants her life back, she needs to have her passport and documents checked, and then she can go to Japan.

But the young woman doesn’t feel she can return home.

“So, I can only stay here and study here,” she replied.

“At the moment, I’m here because my dad is in Japan, but I’m going to return home because my mother’s here.”

“Are you a good person?”

I ask.

“Yeah, I try to be.”

“Can you tell me about your life?”

I asked.

“We’re married now.”

She nodded.

“Oh my God.

I’m so happy,” she told me.

“Your father told you, ‘My wife loves me.'”

“I don’t love her.”

I told her it was a common myth that Japanese men love their wives.

“Do you think that’s true?” she said, with tears in her eyes.

I asked if she is a good wife.

“Of course,” she answered.

“Because I know what a good woman is.

I know how to be strong and to take care of my family.”

I thanked her and she left.

The next day, the young girl is at school, reading.

“What is your favorite word?”

I want to ask her.

“Blonde,” she tells me.

I smile at her and say, “That is great!”

I tell her I’m proud of her.

I tell the story of my mother, and tell her to meet me in Japan in the future.

I think she will be very happy.