I had sex on the floor. On a futon. Sometimes. Or sometimes just on the floor.
I liked to come home and lay on my floor, my back pressed against the wooden panels, my arms and legs spread-eagled. I would sometimes wake up hours later, my neck stiff and my head sore.
But most of all, I loved to sit on the floor. Even when someone gave me a chair or there was a sofa. I had done this long before I came to Japan.
I wondered if somehow my body just knew one day it would have to adapt.