Nothing that belonged to it exists any more. He remembers those vanished years. As though looking through a dusty window pane, the past is something he could see, but not touch. And everything he sees is blurred and indistinct.
Am I falling for her again? Do I want to? Maybe.
Have I changed for the better? Have I changed at all? Perhaps.
Has the World stayed the same since I left? Am I still frustrated? Possibly.
Do I really miss Japan? Oh yes.
