When you came, he was not expecting you. Not even once it crossed his mind. “Don’t” He said to the mirror. You knew he was staring at you from distance and maybe it was enough or maybe it was not, but who knew?

You should have not given him any sign—whatsoever, if you would not stay, if you were only to make him suffered.
He was bath in fantasies yet fearing that he had no chance. Though you encouraged him to dive free into your world, without knowing how to swim?

You were not kind, but he preached you. To him, you were something that only existed in dream. His id and ego clashed like lightning and thunder. In war, fight or fly?

You might not be crazy about him. But he was. And maybe, he is still insane. Even, after all the torment and miseries you gave away for him.

I know for sure what he feels, or maybe I don’t.
*I am afraid I was him; maybe I, still, am him.