One wonderful April morning, on a restricted side road in Tokyo's popular Harujuku neighborhood, I strolled past the 100% immaculate young lady.
Disclose to you the fact of the matter, she's not that attractive. She doesn't emerge in any capacity. Her garments are nothing exceptional. The back of her hair is as yet mad from rest. She isn't youthful, either - must be almost thirty, way off the mark to a "young lady," appropriately. Yet at the same time, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% ideal young lady for me. The minute I see her, there's a thundering in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a leave.
Perhaps you have your own specific most loved sort of young lady - one with thin lower legs, say, or enormous eyes, or smooth fingers, or you're drawn for reasons unknown to young ladies who take as much time as is needed with each supper. I have my own particular inclinations, obviously. Now and then in an eatery I'll discover myself gazing at the young lady at the following table to mine since I like the state of her nose.
However, nobody can demand that his 100% immaculate young lady compare to some biased sort. Much as I prefer noses, I can't review the state of hers - or regardless of the possibility that she had one. Whatever I can recollect without a doubt is that she was no extraordinary magnificence. It's bizarre.
"Recently in the city I passed the 100% young lady," I tell somebody.
"No doubt?" he says. "Attractive?"
"Not by any means."
"Your most loved sort, at that point?"
"I don't have the foggiest idea. I can't recollect that anything about her - the state of her eyes or the extent of her bosoms."
"Odd."
"No doubt. Bizarre."
"So in any case," he says, officially exhausted, "what did you do? Converse with her? Take after her?"
"Nah. Just passed her in the city."
She's strolling east to west, and I west to east. It's a truly pleasant April morning.
Wish I could converse with her. 30 minutes would be bounty: simply get some information about herself, enlighten her concerning myself, and - what I'd truly get a kick out of the chance to do - disclose to her the complexities of destiny that have prompted our passing each other on a side road in Harajuku on a delightful April morning in 1981. This was something certain to be packed brimming with warm insider facts, similar to an antique clock construct when peace filled the world.
Subsequent to talking, we'd eat some place, perhaps observe a Woody Allen motion picture, stop by an inn bar for mixed drinks. With any sort of good fortune, we may wind up in bed.
Possibility thumps on the entryway of my heart.
Presently the separation between us has limited to fifteen yards.
How might I approach her? What would it be advisable for me to state?
"Hello, miss. Do you think you could save 30 minutes for a little discussion?"
Absurd. I'd seem like a protection sales representative.
"Excuse me, yet would you happen to know whether there is a throughout the night cleaners in the area?"
No, this is similarly as absurd. I'm not conveying any clothing, for a certain something. Who will purchase a line that way?
Perhaps the straightforward truth would do. "Hello. You are the 100% ideal young lady for me."
No, she wouldn't trust it. Or, on the other hand regardless of the possibility that she did, she might not have any desire to converse with me. Apologies, she could state, I may be the 100% ideal young lady for you, however you're not the 100% kid for me. It could happen. Furthermore, on the off chance that I ended up in that circumstance, I'd most likely turn out badly. I'd never recuperate from the stun. I'm thirty-two, and that is what truly matters to becoming more established.
We go before a blossom shop. A little, warm air mass touches my skin. The black-top is moist, and I get the aroma of roses. I can't force myself to address her. She wears a white sweater, and in her correct hand she holds a fresh white envelope lacking just a stamp. So: She's composed some person a letter, perhaps spent the entire night composing, to judge from the drowsy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain each mystery she's at any point had.
I take a couple of more walks and turn: She's lost in the group.
Presently, obviously, I know precisely what I ought to have said to her. It would have been a long discourse, however, awfully ache for me to have conveyed it legitimately. The thoughts I think of are never extremely reasonable.
No matter. It would have begun "Quite a long time ago" and finished "A pitiful story, wouldn't you say?"
Some time ago, there carried on a kid and a young lady. The kid was eighteen and the young lady sixteen. He was not bizarrely great looking, and she was not particularly wonderful. They were only a common desolate kid and a normal forlorn young lady, similar to all the others. In any case, they accepted with their entire hearts that some place on the planet there experienced the 100% flawless kid and the 100% ideal young lady for them. Yes, they put stock in a wonder. What's more, that supernatural occurrence really happened.
One day the two happened upon each other on the edge of a road.
"This is astonishing," he said. "I've been searching for all of you my life. You may not trust this, but rather you're the 100% ideal young lady for me."
"What's more, you," she said to him, "are the 100% ideal kid for me, precisely as I'd imagined you in everything about. It resembles a fantasy."
They sat on a recreation center seat, clasped hands, and revealed to each other their stories unendingly. They were not desolate any longer. They had found and been found by their 100% flawless other. What a superb thing it is to discover and be found by your 100% immaculate other. It's a wonder, an astronomical supernatural occurrence.
As they sat and talked, notwithstanding, a little, small bit of uncertainty flourished in their souls: Was it truly okay for one's fantasies to work out as expected so effectively?
Thus when there came a transient break in their discussion, the kid said to the young lady, "How about we test ourselves - just once. On the off chance that we truly are each other's 100% impeccable darlings, at that point at some point, some place, we will meet again without come up short. Furthermore, when that happens, and we realize that we are the 100% impeccable ones, we'll wed without even a second's pause. What do you think?"
"Yes," she stated, "that is precisely what we ought to do."
Thus they separated, she toward the east, and he toward the west.
The test they had settled upon, be that as it may, was completely superfluous. They ought to never have embraced it, since they truly and genuinely were each other's 100% impeccable significant others, and it was a supernatural occurrence that they had ever met. In any case, it was inconceivable for them to know this, youthful as they were. The cool, unconcerned rushes of destiny continued to hurl them unmercifully.
One winter, both the kid and the young lady caught the season's loathsome inluenza, and subsequent to floating for a considerable length of time among st life and demise they lost all memory of their prior years. When they got up, their heads were as unfilled as the youthful D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.
They were two splendid, decided youngsters, notwithstanding, and through their unremitting endeavors they could get at the end of the day the learning and feeling that qualified them to return as undeniable individuals from society. Paradise be lauded, they turned out to be really upstanding residents who knew how to exchange starting with one tram line then onto the next, who were completely fit for sending an uncommon conveyance letter at the mail station. For sure, they even experienced love once more, once in a while as much as 75% or even 85% love.
Time gone with stunning quickness, and soon the kid was thirty-two, the young lady thirty.
One excellent April morning, looking for some espresso to begin the day, the kid was strolling from west to east, while the young lady, meaning to send an extraordinary conveyance letter, was strolling from east to west, yet along a similar limited road in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the extremely focal point of the road. The faintest sparkle of their lost recollections flickered for the briefest minute in their souls. Each felt a thundering in their chest. What's more, they knew:
She is the 100% ideal young lady for me.
He is the 100% ideal kid for me.
In any case, the sparkle of their recollections was dreadfully frail, and their musings never again had the lucidity of fourteen years prior. Without a word, they passed each other, vanishing into the group. For eternity.
A miserable story, wouldn't you say?
Yes, that is it, that is the thing that I ought to have said to her.