The Living of Helplessness

To write about you
or even to think of you...
now feels so wearisome.

So I've stopped depending on you,
the habit of writing isn't what it used to be.

You know, now in my life
a new person has come—
who has learned to write mostly by thinking of me.

All her feelings—wrapped around me,
all her grievances—circling our moments together.

But how lasting is this?
She's so innocent,
the rest of the road without me—
she'll have to walk alone...
How do I make her understand?

I wish...
if only the rest of life could be
spent together this way—
perhaps what we've created between us
would live forever.

Tithi loves me impossibly,
the way I once loved you.
Though she also knows
that I don't love her back...

All my love seems only—
to have touched you,
this I've never told her;
because...I don't want to hurt Tithi,
I can't bear to see her tears.