After Pete Buttigieg, Amy Klobuchar and Mike Bloomberg dropped out of the race, after the brutal reality check of both Super Tuesday and Super Tuesday II, after Elizabeth Warren decided to end her quest for the Democratic presidential nomination and after major news outlets weren’t even bothering to include her in reporting about presidential primary results anymore, Tulsi Gabbard has refused to drop out of the race that has already dropped her.

That may be her prerogative, as it is also the prerogative of those who are supporting her with campaign donations so she can keep doing what she’s doing, whatever that may be. (Most recently, Gabbard has been surfing in San Francisco so photographers can take her picture, making video messages and filing frivolous lawsuits that get her name in the news cycle.) But presidential elections are not about fulfilling a personal vision board or the small triumph of limping to the end of a marathon long after the elite runners have finished. It is about what American voters want for their country, not what an individual candidate wants for herself.

In the last election you could spot Hawaii politicians who held secret dreams of mimicking Gabbard’s stunning leapfrog from zero-experience local politician to the halls of Congress. That dream of being just like Gabbard glittered in their eyes, especially those who had actually put in years of toil and knew they had more going on than she did.

Hard to imagine anyone would want to be like Gabbard now — marginalized, all but forgotten, without a job to go back to when the running-for- president thing is finally over, and exposed for the shallow, fickle, unfocused figure her unbridled ambition caused her to be.

She couldn’t even win in the sands of her birth, American Samoa. While Bloom­berg’s campaign spent money and time in Samoa, hiring local campaign staff to actually talk to people and reach out, Gabbard merely shot a video shout-out. That kind of superficial “connection,” over and over again, represents the modus operandi of the Gabbard campaign and, really, the totality of her years in elected office. It took too long for it to become obvious, but it’s glaring now.

Gabbard herself seems to be casting about for inspiration, trying to position herself as an Alexandria Ocacio-Cortez type of political superstar, adopting the white pantsuit, gold hoop earrings and snarky Twitter game. But AOC knows about paying one’s dues before expecting a bigger job, and she shows up to vote in Congress. She’s also more clever on Twitter.

What has stopped cold for Gabbard is her improbable trajectory. Sure, she could come out of this with some plum gig (popular guesses include a contributing role on Fox News or a spot in the Trump administration), but her razzle-dazzle with voters, especially here in Hawaii where she first honed her razzle game, has fizzled to the point of ridiculous fringe candidacy. We might never have to contend with her inattention again.