Bokelskere.no

I wrote huge number of letters that spring: one a week to Naoko, several to Reiko, and several more to Midori. I wrote letters in the lecture hall, I wrote letters at my desk at home with Seagull on my lap, I wrote letters at empty tables during my breaks at the Italian restaurant. It was as If I were writing letters to hold together the pieces of my crumbling life.

I would try clamping my eyes shut and gritting my teeth, and wait for it to pass. And it would pass - but slowly, taking its own time, and leaving a dull ache in its path.

I told her I missed her, that I had been hoping, one way or another, to be able to meet her and talk. In any case, I wrote, I've decided to make myself strong. As far as I can tell, that's all I can do.

På en stor glasruta har ett vitt papper med texten »OBS! GLASRUTA« tejpats upp. Iblant känner jag mig som att det är det jag sysslar med: skriver ordet glasruta på en glasruta.

Skriver självklarheter.

Holly smiled weakly. Gerry would know exactly how she was feeling, he would know exactly what to say and exactly what to do. He would give her one of his famous hugs and all her problems would melt away. She grabbed a pillow from her bed and hugged it tight. She couldn't remember the last time she had hugged someone, really hugged someone. And the depressing thing was that she couldn't imagine ever embracing anyone the same way again.

She sat down at the kitchen table and sipped on a hot mug of tea to thaw out her frozen body. Friend tells you he loves you and dead husband tells you to fall in love again so you make a cup of tea.

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.

It’s great that you can listen and be a shoulder to someone, but what about when someone doesn’t need a shoulder. What if they need the arms or something like that?

En morgen forsto hun at hun var blitt syk av all ydmykelsen. Hun kastet opp. Det var latterlig å streve for å skaffe penger til mat når man bare kastet den opp.

It's like when you are excited about a girl and you see a couple holding hands, and you feel so happy for them. And other times you see the same couple, and they make you so mad. And all you want is to always feel happy for them because you know that if you do, then it means that you're happy too.

Man kan inte säga att det är lättare att ljuga än att tala sanning. Det är olika metoder. Om det faller sig naturligt att förändra lite av verkligheten, att skuffa undan ett mått av obekvämlighet, är det inget konstigt utan naturligt. Och det som är naturligt är väl sant? Den öppna blicken, de utsträckta armarna, det glada tonfallet, de försäkrande åtgärderna, generositeten, beredvilligheten, allt det vackra och lätta.

Om jag står här med alle mina gåvor inför dig, ja då har jag också rätt att ge mig själv en gåva. Rätten, min rätt att bestemma över sanningen.

Barnet nu, som nyss somnat i min famn med sin ena hand sträckt mot min hals, sitt ena ben över min mage. Hennes behov, hennes kärlek, om det nu kallas kärlek det hon känner, i varje fall hennes riktade lyskraft och instinkt. Allt detta fullt synlig för mig. Och jag kan svara henne. Signaler ostöra av rädsla. Jag ser på mina händer och ser att de inte är klor.

Rädslan: Att gå från att vara ett lillgammalt barn till att bli ett argt och åldrat barn och sedan, när det är för sent, ett sorgset sammanfallande barn.

“What really knocks me out is a book, when you’re all done reading it, you wished the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it.”