Sorry it's so short (I have a problem with writing over five hundred words and being happy with it), but hopefully it will appease you for now.
Sometimes she thinks she's got it bad, but most of the time she just feels ridiculously foolish. She knows he's not there, yet she searches anyway. She sees a tuft of blond hair on some boy thirty feet away and she gets excited. Of course, when the intelligent part of her kicks in and berates her on even hoping she just feels stupid.
'It's false hope,' her mind tells her.
'But it is still hope, right?' she responds.
'It's a lie.' the voice seethes.
She thinks that maybe subconsciously her mind, her heart, hasn't accepted the fact that he's gone. He's not there, and it's doubtful he's ever coming back to her.
There's always a deep, sinking feeling after she realizes it isn't him. Just some other boy who happens to share the same fair locks he had. She kind of feels sick, mostly feels ashamed; her eyes want to well up with tears, but she fights it. She won't cry for him. (At least not yet. Not until that moment when if finally sinks in that he really isn't there. That there really is no hope.)
Instead, she moves her eyes away from the mistaken boy, heart clenching, and keeps walking.
"Maybe next time," she whispers to herself.
Because false hope is better than no hope at all.