Sometimes when I think about her my head is talking like Agent Smith in the final moments of the Matrix trilogy (spoilers).
Why, Philip? Why, why, why? Why do you do it? Why, why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something, for more than just the sake of fighting? Can you tell me what it is, do you even know? Is it lust, or compassion, perhaps acknowledgement, could it be for love? Illusions, Philip, vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without any meaning or purpose! And all of them as unrequited as Orsino's love. Although only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Philip, you must know it by now. You can't win, it's pointless to keep fighting! Why, Philip, why? Why do you persist?
