Do you ever think of me, in the quiet, in the crowd

There is a boy I loved. I think of him always. I'm not sure that is normal.
Maybe not always. I'll be happy, and then his name will appear in my head. I become sad.
Maybe that is grief. Moving on. Being happy or sad. And missing them. And still moving forward.
I'd do anything to live my life with him.
Anything except live my life with him.

I don't understand myself.