Today I saw a boy

And I wondered if he noticed me

He took my breath away

The pen paused for a moment against the paper. The diary didn’t usually get written in, because there was always the chance of someone stumbling upon it and reading the secret thoughts in there. But maybe, if no names were written, maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

Dear Diary

I can’t get him off my mind

And it scares me ‘cause

I’ve never felt this way

Two weeks after the first meeting. All that had been written in the small notebook since was thoughts and imaginings – all about him. Where was he? What was he doing? Would he ever show up again?

No on in this world

Knows me better than you do

So Diary

I’ll confide in you

The diary was the closest friend a person could have. It never laughed, it never mocked or insulted, it just sat there was listened. So the words continued to pour onto the lined pages, page after page after page of thoughts and hopes, dreams and wishes.

Dear Diary

Today I saw that boy

As he walked by

I thought he smiled at me

He was back! Finally, after weeks of non-communication, he was back. The words being scrawled were tinged with relief. And he had smiled . . . well, almost. It was the first time anything like that had happened. It had been wonderful, amazing, unbelievable . . . the best moment to be recorded between the notebook’s covers.

And I wondered

Does he know what’s in my heart

I tried to smile

But I could hardly breathe

I’m falling in love with him. I know I am. I get light-headed just thinking about him. Even though I haven’t seen him in weeks, the moment he looked at me again, I knew. I knew.

Should I tell him how I feel?

Or would that scare him away?

Diary, tell me what to do

Please tell me what to say

What should I do? Do I tell him? Do I keep it to myself? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t think I could handle it if he didn’t feel the same way. Diary, what do I do?

The diary remained silent, and listened as the panicked words were written on its pages.

Dear Diary

One touch of his hand

Now I can’t wait

To see that boy again

I can’t wait to see him. I asked him if I would see him again, and he told me he thought it was possible! I hope so. I hope we’ll see each other again, even if it’s five weeks, months, or years from now. I just want to see him again.

He smiled

And I thought my heart could fly

Diary, do you think that we’ll

Be more than friends?

He’s my closest friend, but I already know that I want him to be more. What do you think, Diary? Do you think I have a chance?

The diary lay there, silent and listening. As the previous pages were re-read, the writing grew more confident. And then one more sentence was added.

I’ve got a feeling we’ll be

So much more than friends

The diary closed and was stored underneath the mattress.

Quatre glanced at the framed picture on his dresser. "Can we be more than friends, Trowa?" he whispered to the still image. "Can we? I think it’s possible."

He turned off the dim light, and fell asleep, wondering what he’d be able to write down next time.