No-one special

"There's a girl in my suburb who looks like a younger version of you," I told her one day.
"Poor thing," she joked.
We got on well...then I shut her out.
We lost touch. Time passed.
I didn't encounter the double again until this morning. She looked even more like the woman I'd known.
Sounded just like her, too.
She chatted merrily with a gal pal, unaware that every word was a droplet in the well of my regret.
"Poor thing," my friend might have joked.