"Please", he said. "Please tell me you feel something".
She kept quiet.
"Please. Please. I am almost begging now".
She kept looking at the street behind him.
"Please tell me you feel. Something. Anything. Please open your heart to me."
And she kept thinking. Thinking of what would happen if she does open her heart to him. What if things don't work out. What if she loses him for worse. Is she willing to be so close to someone emotionally? So vulnerable to a person?

He kept staring at her. She kept staring at a clothes stall on the street behind his eyes.

"I can't read your mind. And I am exhausted. I am giving you 5 seconds to say something".

She looked at him. For the first time. Looked him in the eye. His impatient, tired, sad eyes. And she still kept thinking.

And he was gone
He left the country. He found someone else. Settled down. He's happy.

She's happy he's happy.
And she knows her over-thinking killed her a little inside that day.
He will never know what she felt. She is afraid she will never be able to feel the same again.
She has moved on. She laughs. She goes out. She has fun. She cries. She misses him.