Only 2 see my reflection

I saw a girl the other day;
she looked very sad.
Her face was drawn and pale,
her eyes were red and puffy from many tears.
There were still tears in her eyes yet unshed
as I stared.
Her cheeks were hollow and colorless,
she was nothing special to look at.
In her eyes was the look of loneliness, the absence of passion.
At the instant I saw it, the sadness was gone;
in its place: cold acceptance.
I wanted to tell her the sorrow wouldn't last,
but when I stretched out my hand, only my reflection reached back.