I forgive her.... albeit slightly, and mostly due to my compassion for her predicament. But I don't forgive him. And I honestly don't wish him any luck, happiness or success. He got himself the object of his unhealthy obsession. But at what cost? Can that truly be called a victory? If at the end of the day all you care about is whether or not you win, whether or not the prize is yours and whether or not the start of your fantasy is a happy one, then what you need is a cheerleader. Preferably a blow-up one.
She's heartbroken, wretched and sad. And he's bummed that he can't just celebrate.
Boo-hoo. What a winner.
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