murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

going to study oil painting! You don't do it to feed yourself. So she's
like, "Why don't you come back to Nagasaki and become an art
teacher?' She's planning to be an English teacher."
"You're not so crazy about her any more, are you?"
"That just about sums it up," Itoh admitted. "And who on earth wants
to be an art teacher? I'm not gonna spend my whole fuckin' life
teaching teenaged monkeys how to draw!"
"That's beside the point," I said. "Don't you think you ought to break
up with her? For both your sakes."
"Sure I do. But I don't know how to say it to her. She's planning to
spend her life with me. How the hell can I say, "Hey, we ought to split
up. I don't like you any more'?"
We drank our Chivas straight, without ice, and when we ran out of
smelts we cut up some cucumbers and celery and dipped them in
miso. When my teeth crunched down on my cucumber slices, I
thought of Midori's father, which reminded me how flat and tasteless
my life had become without Midori and this put me in a foul mood.
Without my being aware of it, she had become a huge presence inside
me.
"Got a girlfriend?" asked Itoh.
"Yeah," I said, then, after a pause added, "but I can't be with her at the
moment."
"But you understand each other's feelings, right?"
"I like to think so. Otherwise, what's the point?" I said with a chuckle.
Itoh talked in hushed tones about the greatness of Mozart. He knew
Mozart inside out, the way a country boy knows his mountain trails.
His father loved the music and had exposed him to it ever since he
was tiny. I didn't know so much about classical music, but listening to
this Mozart concerto with Itoh's smart and heartfelt commentary
("There - that part," "How about that?"), I felt myself calming down
for the first time in ages. We stared at the crescent moon hanging over
Inokashira Park and drank our Chivas Regal to the last drop. Fantastic
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