Walking on a one-way street

To him, we are just friends. To me, it means so much more than that. I am always behind, looking at his back. Chasing after him, knowing that I will never reach for his shoulders. For he will never turn back. As he runs, I am behind him constantly. What if he disappears right in front of me? Slowly but surely, as we drift further apart, I will be chasing nothing but a mere shadow of him. What then?  I have gone so far. I look back, only to realise the regret of ever being in that one-way street with him. Everything starts to crumble. I have nothing else to chase after.