“Lost opportunities, lost possibilities,
feelings we can never get back.
That’s part of what it means to be alive.
But inside our heads
– at least that’s where I imagine it –
there’s a little room where we store those memories.
A room like the stacks in this library…..
In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.”
— Haruki Murakami.
Tonight im writing you a letter, because i have to tell you….i miss you really bad.
Actually there is a few things i want you to know.
Maybe once you know those things, you will at least consider to think about coming back.
I really miss you.
I miss the way you used to dream, and smile.
Remember how you would love waking up early and finish your duties so you can go out in your bike and run over the crazy streets of your little town?…
You loved to stop by the small book store and watch the books, the used ones of course, and buy at least one.
Then go to any friend’s house and talk and make plans. And feel life and all the good things to come.
And always get back home just in time for coffee, and after dinner sit outside to have fun with the neighbors, feeling the fresh air of the night and the sweet music of the loud talking of your people.
And you used to sleep so good.
I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t know where you are.
What are you doing?.
What is keeping you so far and distant from me?.
I don’t even know exactly when you left. But it seems like a whole life to me.
I’m still feeling your pain, im still crying your tears….but you are not here. Not anymore.
And i miss you. It feels so empty and dark here.
That’s why i feel this deep urge to find you, whatever it takes. Wherever you are…i want to be with you.
Because…..dear me….i miss you.