murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

There was nothing I could say, and so I said nothing.
""What's wrong?' she says to me. "You like it this way, don't you? I
knew you would the first time I met you. I know you like it. It's much
better than doing it with a man - isn't it? Look how wet you are. I can
make you feel even better if you'll let me. It's true. I can make you feel
like your body's melting away. You want me to, don't you?' And she
was right. She was much better than my husband. And I did want her
to do it even more! But I couldn't let it happen. "Let's do this once a
week,' she said. "Just once a week. Nobody will find out. It'll be our
little secret'."
"But I got out of bed and put on my dressing-gown and told her to
leave and never come back. She just looked at me. Her eyes were
absolutely flat. I had never seen them like that
before. It was as if they were painted on cardboard. They had no
depth. After she stared at me for a while, she gathered up her clothes
without a word and, as slowly as she could, as though she were
making a show of it, she put on each item, one at a time. Then she
went back into the piano room and took a brush from her bag. She
brushed her hair and wiped the blood from her lips with a
handkerchief, put on her shoes, and left. As she went out, she said,
"You're a lesbian, you know. It's true. You may try to hide it, but
you'll be a lesbian until the day you die'."
"Is it true?" I asked.
Reiko curved her lips and thought for a while. "Well, it is and it isn't. I
definitely felt better with her than with my husband. That's a fact. I
had a time there when I really agonized over the question. Maybe I
really was a lesbian and just hadn't noticed until then. But I don't think
so any more. Which is not to say I don't have the tendencies. I
probably do have them. But I'm not a lesbian in the proper sense of the
term. I never feel desire when I look at a woman. Know what I
mean?"
I nodded.
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