Two short lines hold a quiet moment of heartbreak. The speaker is watching someone they care about, and that person is watching someone else. The pronoun "her/him" is left open, so the poem doesn't depend on who the third person is. What matters is that the speaker's feelings aren't returned, and that the watching makes this clear.
The realization arrives gently. The speaker doesn't storm off or lash out. Instead they reach a calm, almost resigned conclusion: perhaps they were "only meant to admire you from a distance." The word "maybe" keeps it uncertain, as if the speaker is still testing the idea and isn't fully ready to accept it. The two dots after "something" suggest a pause, a moment of hesitation before the truth comes out.
The mood is wistful and tender, with a touch of sadness. It reads like the soft sting of seeing clearly where you stand, and choosing to hold on to the admiration anyway.