Existence and reality

I don't exist. To you, I'm just another meaningless face that walks by aimlessly, wondering around searching for a purpose in life. To you, I'm just another boy/girl in a crowd, nothing extraordinary, nothing really stunning, nothing, really, nothing at all. But then, to me, you are everything. You are my sun, my moon, and my stars. You bring a smile to my lips, joy to my heart. To see you can change my day from bad to good. A simple "hello" sounds like a choir, an orchestra to me, just to me and no one else. I guess you will never find me. But that's okay. You're my little fantasy bubble, a cute little bubble that holds my dreams, my hopes, my love, and my infatuation. If you never find me, the bubble will always be there. It will stay just as it is a bubble, a fantasy. And if you do find me, either you will choose to break my bubble or you will make that bubble more than a fantasy. Reality, perhaps. But what's the chance of that? What's the chance of you stepping into my life and making all my dreams come true? Statistically, zero. Well, that's life I guess. But it doesn't hurt to hope, does it? To hope that one day, you will see me, that girl that always waits around the corner, books in one hand, bag in the other, just waiting. Hoping that one day, you will see me. Not as another person, But as me. The one who knows you so well, but never says a word to you. The one who knows you inside out... Your favorite food, the color of your eyes, the type of clothes you wear, your cologne, down to the smallest detail about you but has never even said hi. But that's okay. I'm satisfied. And even if you ever go out with someone else, it's okay. It’s Fine with me. 'Cos as the saying goes, "If you love someone, set them free..." You don't know me, anyway. So what's the use of me getting all jealous and worked up over you, who doesn't even know I exist? The most I can do is to be happy for you. 'Cos the smile on your face means more than anything to me. Yeah, to see you happy is what counts. And I'll keep hoping. Maybe one day, you will notice me. Maybe you will say hi. Maybe, we can go out for a drink or a chat or a sandwich. Maybe we can discuss homework together. Maybe you will want to see me again the next day. Sure, fine by me. No problem at all. Yeah, who knows? We might continue to see each other, maybe even find out that we are perfect for each other. Uh-huh, and then, who knows? Three years down the line, you or me might propose, maybe get married, and fifty years after that, we will be two wrinkled old prunes sitting in our rocking chairs in front of our house looking at the neighborhood and thinking back on the years gone by. And to think that so many years ago, I was just another face in the crowd. Or maybe that might not happen at all. Maybe you will meet someone else, and you will be sharing a drink or lunch or a sandwich with her. Maybe you will propose to him/her and maybe you two will get married and maybe you two will be the wrinkled old prunes. But hey, that's just a maybe. Or maybe none of that will ever come to being. Who knows? But I'll keep hoping. Tomorrow is another day, right? Another day with new hopes, dreams, loves, and infatuations.
And when will the label of unworthy of mine expired?