Never Pass You By

It's kind of funny: how many times had I driven past your street before I met you? How many times had I looked at that house on the corner as I gazed out the window and thought it was just another house? Now, I can't ever pass it without being so completely aware that its yours. I can't drive by without your face coming to mind, without thinking of everything we've been through. Now, I can't drive by without sneaking a glance and hoping you're standing outside, but praying you're not. Now, I can't help but feel another ache of pain and reality when I realize that you're practically at the tips of my fingers, but are slipping away.