Nothing is finished yet. Some love still remains today. Weary of his riddles, you think of something new, you're thinking. Thinking, but not thinking.
Only you know all this. No one else. No one at all! Alas, such acting even covers doubt...
No! How can this be, tell me? I've endured so much already! How much more? Enough is enough! Someone came close knowing you for what you are. Nothing else, just loving you. That was so long ago! Today you remember nothing of it, isn't that right?
The chemistry inside your mind—perhaps this new boy knows something of it. But surely not enough, or he wouldn't think of you so freely in his own way. He doesn't know that if the riddling boy slips up and says "I love you," you'll leave him and return again to that old relationship. He knows you've moved away; yes, you told him so yourself!
For you this may be a waiting room of doubtful love, but what of him who sits here for his entire life? Did you come close just to make the accounting of life's span hopelessly confused?
There's nothing in thinking I'll let go. What there is: I have let go, or I haven't. Nothing in between. People live so much by acting!
You think of the one who pushed you away with neglect, but forget in an instant the one who reached toward you with complete faith, encouraged by you? What happiness did you hope for by encouraging someone you wouldn't even shelter? Does everyone just hold hands in momentary dreams, tell me? The same you who said you'd left someone never to return—how easily you said, I'm going back, forgive me if you can! ...Oh! This too happens!!
Which love do women hold dearest, who knows! The old one? Or the new? Or do they keep both as options while waiting intensely for yet another love—newer, more novel, more experimental? Their hearts change, and love with them. Do they themselves know what they really want, how they want it, how much they want? ...Piles of postdoctoral theses could be written on all this!
Women, you certainly can! Break toys in childhood, break lives when grown! Why, tell me? Is there no cheaper toy than life? Or do you just not look?