He sat down, opened the diary and began to read...

"November 9th, 2004, Sunny Day

It was twelve o'clock. The lunch bell rang. I walked down the hallway, searching for you. The hallway was crowded with people I had seen since I had come to the school, but there was still no sign of you. I looked back and forth repeatedly as if I was lost in the middle of nowhere. I searched and searched, then my stomach began to gurgle like a kitchen sink. I was upset and kind of angry because I had no idea where you were. I decided to give up, my hunger leading me down to the cafeteria to get some food. After walking down thirty steps, I stood in front of the cafeteria entrance. My eyes automatically began to scan the whole cafeteria, from one side to the other, for you. I sighed with disappointment and stood there like a stone. I figured that it was lunch time; you would definitely come to the cafeteria sometime. I leaned back on a pole just right in front of the entrance, facing the stairway, crossed my arms and adopted a pose, trying to act cool.."

  He tucked his right hand into the page he was just reading and closed the diary for a brief moment. He looked out the window with his index finger resting on his chin and raised his eyebrows. He began to think, "How childish I was back then, trying to act cool!" Then he had a short flashback of the first time they met; it was over the summer when he got the girl's e-mail from a friend. Eventually, the relationship deepened after hours and hours of internet conversations. His eyes turned to the top of his stereo and the framed picture that he had taken during grade 8. He laughed at himself, shook his head, and began to read again. 

I was right! There you were, walking down the stairway with your buddy. I gave you one of my impatient face expressions and went right up to you. Holding anger and disappointment inside, I still managed to start the conversation. "I've been searching for you for so long! Where on earth were you!?" My heart started pumping faster and faster. This was the first time I had seen you properly and talked to you in person. We had spent the summer chatting through the internet and our webcams, and you had charmed me with your smile, your humor, your bright eyes and your straight hair. I tried to calm down so you would not notice how shy I really was when it came to talking to girls. I smiled, but my hand was still shaking inside my blue-jeans pocket..."

    He closed up the diary gently with his rough hands, leaned over the table, his back aching, one hand trying to support his spine and the other putting the diary on the shelf between his old photo album and stacks of insurance papers. He groaned quietly because of the pain and sat down in his chair. While he was listening to the classical music of Concerto No.5 by Beethoven, he turned and looked at himself in the mirror - his bald head with a few white hairs, his wrinkled face, and his swollen eyes. He stared into the mirror, looking deep into his pupils, and he imagined himself becoming a young boy again just like he used to be. At the blink of an eye, it was nothing but imagination; it was an image that he dared not look at. Breathing heavily, he could barely get up from his chair. He grabbed his old crutches beside his table and began shuffling to the living room, where he was greeted by an old woman with bright eyes, a beautiful smile, and straight white hair.

i miss this. do u?

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