To be misunderstood is a hefty load to bear daily. To look everywhere and be unable to find any real, soul comrades, until one ominous day. And even on that day, to have a seeming savior misunderstand you is never a pleasant experience.
A savior, whom you just understand without even knowing the full backstory.
A real connection albeit one-sided.
Someone you saw walking along the same path you do now, but already so far, far away.
A feeling that even if you ran, you may never end up catching up to them.
And even if you threw your mind at the top of your lungs, they may still misunderstand you.
Disagree with you given the choices that they already made, lessons that they already learned.
But you never lose the sight of their flame, just like a moth; chasing it even with a serene state of mind, hopelessly, unable to both forget or turn away. Unable to come close enough to touch, for you know you will surely burn. Yet you still chase after the pipe hope.
To simply give up is to surely misunderstand and lose yourself and your own direction.
Lingering with the feeling that they will never understand even with proper communication due to the barrier of time.
Time is a bitter enemy that cannot be defeated.
So you have no choice but to chase. Alone. With a fake hope. Eternally.