When I open this book, the first page contains four dates in my scrawly handwriting: 2010. 2011. 2013. 2016.

It's a strange thing with memory. I do not remember how I first got this book. Whether it was recommended to me, or if I found it myself. But I remember the moment when I fell in love with the story. I was 21 and for a few months in Tokyo. Alone and far away from everything that has shaped my life. Sitting in the park, looking up after a few chapters, it overwhelmed me. As if I finally remember something. Something I have not known yet and maybe always missed. At that moment, I sensed that this city was waiting for me.

I did not take the book back to Germany, but left it with my relatives. In all my subsequent trips to Japan, after some time, I ran out of reading material and I reached back to "Norwegian Wood". Four versions of my ego - in four different phases of my life - have read this book. Some things I've read differently over the years. But that one feeling kept coming back.

How many years will be added?