We pass each other in the hallways like strangers.
You look in my eyes, I look in yours—
We speak without words,
Because eyes say more than lips ever could.

Passing by you feels like passing a stranger...
But strangers don’t know—
your name,
your laugh,
your smile,
your birthday,
your class,
your eyes.
But now, you act like you never knew me at all.
I tell myself:
It’s done.
What’s done is done.
Maybe we weren’t meant to know each other.
But even after all that...
I still miss you.