My mother’s nickname for my father is “pajarito”, which translates to “little bird” in English, and I never asked why. So today at the mall I asked her why from all the cute nicknames in the world would she call him that and my mother responded, “It’s because he grew up without a mom” and started to cry… We got home and my mother saw my father and once again called him “pajarito” and he smiled and responded with “pajarita”, and man…I want that type of love.
"I think you still love me, but we can’t escape the fact that I’m not enough for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I’m not blaming you for falling in love with another woman. I’m not angry, either. I should be, but I’m not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong."
Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun (via hqlines)