" All over again I understood how important, how irreplaceable,
Sumire was to me. In her own special way she’d kept me
tethered to the world. As I talked to her and read her stories,
my mind quietly expanded, and I could see things I’d never
seen before. Without even trying, we grew close. Like a pair of
young lovers undressing in front of each other, Sumire and I
had exposed our hearts to one another, an experience I’d never
have with anyone else, anywhere. We cherished what we had
together, though we never put into words how very precious it
was.
Of course it hurt that we could never love each other in a
physical way. We would have been far happier if we had. But
that was like the tides, the change of seasons—something
immutable, an immovable destiny we could never alter. No
matter how cleverly we might shelter it, our delicate friendship
wasn’t going to last for ever. We were bound to reach a dead
end. That was painfully clear.
I loved Sumire more than anyone else and wanted her more
than anything in the world. And I couldn’t just shelve those
feelings, for there was nothing to take their place.
I dreamed that someday there’d be a sudden, major
transformation. Even if the chances of it coming true were slim, I
could dream about it, couldn’t I? But I knew it would never
come true. "

― Haruki Murakami , Sputnik Sweetheart