I promised to myself and I didn’t break up with her. I see a mirror of myself in her, the way I acted last year towards so many. With no regard to their feelings, to what they need or want, blind to what they could give me, and what they were giving me. Yet, just like them, I can’t muster the courage to say goodbye, I secretly hope she’ll soon miraculously realise what I could bring to her. It’s tormenting yet beautiful. Feels like trying to reach a mirage, a figment of my imagination that I project and strive towards. There is no end to the road yet it’s always in sight. It’s good to see the end and I don’t want to let go, like those in the desert who know full well what they see is not real, yet lie themselves into thinking that it is, and with new strength strive towards it. I just hope not share their fate.