Shelf-Reflecting: More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, Satoshi Yagisawa

 My Days at the Morisaki Bookshop :)

The book and its prequel are like meeting with a long distance friend after ages over a cup of coffee

“While I was worrying about how I could bring them together, he was thinking about how to make her feel better. Rather than trying to force open the door that she wanted closed behind her, it made more sense to start by getting her to open it from her side.”

—More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, Satoshi Yagisawa

I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a part of someone’s world.

From the house you live in, to the metro you catch at the same time every morning—you end up encountering people. Often unknowingly, you become someone’s little constant. A quiet presence in the background of their routine.

But what does it mean to step into someone’s inner world?

Is it the warmth of a shared cup of tea and the comfort of a silence that doesn’t need filling? Is it a smile exchanged as you walk past each other on a street you both know too well?

What does it mean to really get to know someone?

Maybe it starts with conversations about the weather—how unbearably hot the day was, or how sudden the rain felt. And then slowly, almost imperceptibly, it snowballs. Into how your weekend went. And then into the parts of you you didn’t plan to reveal—like how tired you are of pretending things are okay.

What do relationships mean, then?

That I could be here, tugging nervously at the frayed ends of my scarf—anxious, hopeful—waiting to know you. Because the experience of being, of really existing with someone, is a bit of a nail-biter. But I’ll wait.

I’ll wait until our exchanged smiles turn into weather conversations over hesitant sips of coffee. I’ll wait until you tell me how you’ve learned to live with the quirks of life.

And when you're ready—when you're really ready—I'll be here, by the door you might someday open.