when i read murakami's words, i felt something deep
resonate within me and i related directly with it.
the following is something i sent to an old friend.
i never received a response back from them, but i get it.
i understand. and it's ok.
"I've thought a lot about you in that time. The more I've thought, the more I've come to feel that i was unfair to you. I probably should have been a better, fairer person when it came to the way i treated you.
This may not be the most normal way to look at things, though. Girls my age never use the word fair. Ordinary girls as young as i am are basically indifferent to whether things are fair or not. The central question for them is not whether something is fair but whether or not it's beautiful or will make them happy. Fair is a man's word, finally, but i can't help feeling that it is also exactly the right word for me now.
And because questions of beauty and happiness have become such difficult and convoluted propositions for me now, i suspect, i find myself clinging instead to other standards - like, whether or not something is fair or honest or universally true.
In any case, though, i believe that i have not been fair to you and that, as a result, i must have led you around in circles and hurt myself just as deeply. I say this not as an excuse or a means of self-justification but because it is true. If i have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well. So please try not to hate me. I am a flawed human being - a far more flawed human being than you realize.
Which is precisely why i do not want you to hate me. Because if you were to do that, i would really go to pieces. I can't do what you can do: i can't slip inside my shell and wait for things to pass. I don't know for a fact that you are really like that, but sometimes you give me that impression. I often envy that in you, which may be why i led you around in circles so much."
-Norwegian Wood by: Haruki Murakami
ps- is this the end?