Those times when you remember the old love you had. When you look them up and you cannot help but think, that you are pathetic for wanting someone who was so very cruel to you. Perhaps they were not even cruel, but you merely imagined it. Yes, it seems so clear now. It was all something you imagined. Not a relationship, no, not even an affair. You loved, but they did not love you back, and it stopped at that. How can you compete with the love depicted in books and films? The love which has been so obviously earned, gained, achieved, when your own is only imaginary? The one you love – they do not even know. If you are with someone else, you convince yourself that you love them, because they will help you forget. No one is brave enough to tell you, that it is resistant to time. This illusion, this painful fantasy, which you will carry with you, until you fall into the same trap yet again.