“We use to spend hours talking. We never got tired of talking, never ran out of topics – novels, the world, scenery, language. Our conversations were more open and intimate than any lovers'. I imagined how wonderful it would be if indeed we could be lovers. I longed for the warmth of her skin on mine. I pictured us married, living together. But I had to face the fact that Sumire had no such romantic feelings for me, let alone sexual interest. Occasionally she'd stay over at my apartment after we'd talk into the small hours, but there was never even the slightest hint of romance. Come 2 or 3 a.m. And she'd yawn, crawl into bed, sink her face into my pillow, and fall fast asleep. I'd spread out some bedding, on the floor and lie down, but I couldn't sleep, my mind full of fantasies, confused thoughts, self-loathing. Sometimes the inevitable physical reactions would cause me grief, and I'd lie awake in misery until dawn. It was hard to accept that she had almost no feelings, maybe none at all, for me as a man. This hurt so bad at times it felt like someone was gouging out my guts with a knife. Still, the time I spent with her was more precious than anything. She helped me forget the undertone of loneliness in my life. She expanded the outer edges of my world, helped me draw a deep, soothing breath. Only Sumire could do that for me.”
- Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami
I love this novel... it currently goes into my top 10 favorites. I wish I had a connection with someone like that.. to talk with for hours about everything, how Sumire would call him on the phone at 3 a.m. to just ask him questions or just talk... I don't necessarily want to experience the unrequited love (that hurts), but everything else, I want in abundance.