Why do all but the pretty girls end up walking home alone?

I glanced in your direction one too many times.
I tried to catch your eye, to capture your attention.
I smiled.
I tried to make you notice.
I only wanted to talk.
To walk.
With you.

We could catch up on everything that we’ve missed.
…if we had anything to catch up on.
I'm sure you don't remember everything we've been through.
I doubt you even knew i was present at the time.
We could remember what it was like to be there for each other.
…if you were ever there for me.
If you had cared for an instant.
If you had ever been there when I needed you.

I tried only a little bit too hard.
I waited for you only a moment too long.
Or a minute.
Or maybe ten.
I only wanted you to catch my eye.
I wanted you to notice.
I wanted you to take a single step out of your way.
For me.
All I asked for with my lingering was a moment of your time.
It’s not out of your way.
Well, maybe a step.
But I would never ask you to take that extra step.
I'd walk the last bit alone.

But no.
You didn’t notice.
You never knew.
And you will never know.
Because now I know.
I will not be naïve forever.
I may not catch on quickly, but I will catch on eventually.
You don’t want to be there for me.
You don’t want that extra smile.
You would not have noticed if I left without the extra moment’s pause.
Or maybe it was a minute.
Or ten.

You didn’t know that I was watching only you.
But if you had I suppose you would not have cared.
And you won’t notice if I’m not there for you again.
You were never there for me.
And you would not have taken the extra step.
The one I never asked you for.
You didn’t even take the first step.
The step that wasn’t out of your way.