Kafka on the Shore

by Haruki Murakami

“But she abandoned me. She vanished, leaving me alone where I shouldn’t be. I’m only now beginning to understand how much that hurt. So how could she do that if she really loved me?” “That’s the reality of it. It did happen,” the boy named Crow says. “You were hurt badly, and those scars will be with you for ever. I feel sorry for you, I really do. But think of it like this: it’s not too late to recover. You’re young, you’re tough. You’re adaptable. You can patch up your wounds, lift up your head and move on. But for her that’s not an option. The only thing she’ll ever be is lost. It doesn’t matter whether somebody judges this as good or bad – that’s not the point. You’re the one who has the advantage. You ought to consider that.” I don’t respond. “It all really happened, so you can’t undo it,” Crow tells me. “She shouldn’t have abandoned you then, and you shouldn’t have been abandoned. But things in the past are like a plate that’s shattered to pieces. You can never put it back as it was, right?”