Makoto Shinkai

Maybe it’s because they all have umbrellas up—because the rain falls on all of them equally.

I’m a little chilled because

I’ve been wandering in the drizzling rain

all alone

My palms, my forehead, are damp

When did I become so dark?

I’m leaning here like this

waiting for the lights to come on

We’re all sick before we know it. But show me a “healthy adult” anyway. Who could pick one out of a crowd? And hey, at least we know we’re sick. We’ve got it better than most, right?

A fire may be set by human hands, but after a certain point, the flames are spreading on their own. Hatred and antipathy are the same way. By the end, it isn’t even clear who started it; it keeps burning until the very last beam comes crashing down.

Maybe this was what people meant by marital bliss. The joy of my cat.

“Life became stronger after the sexes were separated.”

“I find that hard to believe.” I recalled the sight of her crying. She wasn’t strong at all.

“You could call it the power to love, the power to need others. This power we gained in exchange for loneliness makes a species stronger.”

I didn’t always understand what Jon said, but I was glad if her loneliness and sadness wasn’t all for nothing.

“Do I have things made from the stars in me too?”

“Yes, you do, Chobi. Your owner does too. It’s because you don’t remember this that you are both lonely hearts,” Jon said.

My ears pricked up as her train passed by. The sound of a beating heart that made the world go round.

This one unchanging pulse in the ever-changing world was a source of comfort to me.

I couldn’t do anything about her problems.

I just lived my days at her side.

She fed me, but I wasn’t her cat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t keep you,” she told me when we first met. “After all, cats die.”

I imagined myself growing old, living in my little apartment, surrounded by lots of cats.