All the Lovers in the Night

by Mieko Kawakami

“Some writers are great, but not successful. Then you get other writers who are successful, but not so great. I’m sure there’s some sort of special principle behind it. Then again, I guess there are things like that everywhere. We get this all the time as women, right? Like, if you make plenty of money but don’t have any kids, you might get called successful. But unless you have kids, no one will ever call you a great woman. You know what I mean?”

I faced forward and tried to stare into my own eyes, which I found staring back at me. Mottled with shadows, my face stared back at me with the most uncertain expression. If only those parted lips would tell me something, I knew that I would listen to them, whatever they might have to say, but no matter how I waited, no words came from anywhere. I became unsure of how to leave the mirror, how to leave the me in the mirror behind.

“We regret the things we don’t do more than the things we do.”

I was so scared of being hurt that I’d done nothing. I was so scared of failing, of being hurt, that I chose nothing. I did nothing.

My only treasures were the memories of how it felt when we met up and talked, but they were disappearing, and soon they’d be gone forever. Truly lost. I ran the risk of losing the one thing that really mattered to me.