She haunts me

I turn and see her in the back row of the theatre. There she is walking down the street. Oh, she's dining in the corner booth. Why is she tailgating me? She's three steps ahead of me at the park, that hair blowing in the wind. There she is in lane three at the market. How can a living person haunt me? Those eyes, that hair, that face ... she's everywhere and nowhere, yet she plods forward in my mind.