"I promise that I'll be able to recover all my memories of you," she said, all of a sudden, as we were walking along. "Even if I forget them at first."

"Every single one?"

"Of course. We've done so much together, wherever I go and whatever I see, I think of you. Newborn babies; the pattern on the plate that you see under a paper-thin slice of sashimi; fireworks in August. The moon hidden behind clouds over the ocean at night. When I'm sitting down someplace, inadvertently step on someone’s toes, and have to apologize. And when someone picks up something I’ve dropped, and I thank him. When I see an elderly man tottering along, and wonder how much longer he has to live. Dogs and cats peeking out from the alleyways. A beautiful view from a tall building. The warm blast of air you feel when you go down into a subway station. The phone ringing in the middle of the night. Even when I have crushes for other men, I always see you in the curve of their eyebrows.”

“So does that mean every single thing on earth reminds you of me?”

Once again, she closed her eyes, and then, opening them, looked directly at me, her eyes shining like glass.

“No, just everything in my heart.”

“So, you mean, your love for me?” I said, somewhat surprised.



(from Helix by Banana Yoshimoto)