That special person

Was she the special person meant for me,
The love they write of in a thousand songs,
The steadfast friend who laughs or weeps, as we
Face challenges, make choices, right or wrong?
At school, I saw her walking in the hall,
And once, we spoke when passing on the stair,
And often, in my dreams, I heard her call
My name, a whisper on the summer air.
I should have told her where my heart was set;
Too shy to speak, I let her walk away,
And watched her as she left, with sharp regret,
Too late to voice the words that I should say.
That memory remains, that scene appears
As vivid now, as then, down through the years.