Goodbye You and I have not been very kind to each other. I have not been very kind to you, and in turn, you have not been very kind to me. In the beginning, we were only two vulnerable people sharing a walk to nowhere. In the end, I've grown too much to bear your world. But that's okay. Sometimes, the best moments in life are walks to nowhere. They don't even have to be walks by side by side. We never did, in fact, walk side by side. We were always strides apart, until I sprinted away. I will only remember the best moments, only the romance, the moments where you moved me like a novel or a scene from a good movie and a taste of good wine. I will remember smashed cigarettes, a fleeting, sad smile, and I will remember the music, and I will absolutely remember the tree where you dove, and there were no words.
Thank you, and goodbye. I wish you well. I wish you take your hopes and dreams, and make heartbreaking things out of them. I hope you kill the rage, get rid of that chip in the shoulder, and love again like you really believed in it.
There are many goodbyes here. This city is stitched by goodbyes, farewell parties, and temporary friends. His leaving hits hard. I was on my bike and having those "last time" moments. Last time turning a left to his apartment. Last time signing in at the door. Last time ringing this doorbell. Last time seeing that smile on his face. The hardest thing though, the hardest thing is that it's not him, it's them, the both of them, like a blip in memory, may fade into night, like they're finally climbing out of the world of 1Q84, back to normality, and on nights on my own, would I wonder: did we ever exist?
We did. Thank you for the love.
After two years, I'm finally finished with 1Q84. I'd held off on volume III for two years because a friend who was a staunch Murakami fan said: volume III felt like somebody else wrote it. Maybe it was the length of time it took to finish it, but the slog of 1000+ pages paced over the span of two years -- worked. It really isn't the type of book you ingest in one sitting. It's the type of book you read, sitting in the nook by your window, looking across your apartment complex to observe your neighbors like 牛河 or 青豆 did. All the criticisms of the book, that it's too long, too slow, too repetitive, I get, but like one of those annoying art movies where the scenes are too slow and closeups too many, there is beauty in the excruciating as the three characters raced to their fated ends.
Like slowly swallowing bullet. That's what reading this book felt like, whether that's good thing or not, the images stay.
China, you're my 1Q84, one day we might sort each other out. Until then, kisses.