"Who was your crush?" When asked this question, we often times recall a memory from grade school. After all, the term "crush," was pretty much coined by little grade schoolers who experienced a short-lived period of attraction towards the opposite sex. Unknowing yet knowing of the feeling of love, a crush is a distant memory washed up and faded away as the years go on. We recall these feelings in momentary lapses, which eventually become washed up and forgotten as we transition from adolescence. But what if this love has become rooted in the back of your mind, weaving itself into every crevice of your brain, searching for fragments of memories to feed on? What if it aches like a cavity when sugar coats your tooth? Can a starved love feast once more? Haruki Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun illustrates this notion of an unforgettable post-war Japan grade school romance lived by Hajime, an only child. With everyone else around him having