The speaker is caught between two kinds of sadness and can't decide which is worse. One is the habit of searching: wherever they go, part of them is scanning the crowd, the street, the room, hoping to find the person they miss. The other is the plain fact that the person is never there. The speaker's own loop of hope and disappointment keeps replaying, and it hurts alongside the absence itself.
What makes the lines feel honest is the speaker's uncertainty. They don't claim to understand their grief; they admit "I don't know." That small confession makes the feeling more intimate, as if we're overhearing a private thought. The word "tragic" is strong, but the tone is quiet and tired rather than dramatic.
The mood is wistful and lonely, with a hint of resignation. The speaker keeps looking even though they know how it ends, which shows how hard it is to let go of someone, even when the evidence says they're gone.