(via theanimalblog)
Passing the station, I thought about Naoko and our endless walking. It had all started from there. I realized that if I hadn’t run into Naoko on the train that Sunday in May, my life would have been very different from what it was now. But then I changed my mind: no, even if we hadn’t met that day, my life might not have been any different. We had met that day because we were supposed to meet. If we hadn’t met then and there, we would have met somewhere else sometime. I didn’t have any basis for thinking this: it was just a feeling.
Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami (via sunnyeckerle)
(via lastdancetomidnight)
