Summary: I will not be able to rest in peace without telling him how I feel. But I'm afraid. He might take my feelings carefully. Surely no one has ever confessed to him before. But what if he uses me? Feelings this deep must not be played with, and yet I might be ready to be the puppet of one of the biggest troublemakers in school. Love, Shermayne

Prologue:

Dear Diary,

There are those who fall for kind people, like I did when I was in the first grade. His skin was the color of deep caramel, his silky, yet dusty looking chocolate brown hair had gone through weird stages of haircuts, but that did not lessen the number of girls who liked him. He was nice and kind, always lending a hand to girls. When we were young he used to give me his drawings as gifts, as he was very good at it. That must have been what inspired me to draw in the first place.

But when Jenny came up to me and said, "Archie likes you," I wasn't sure what to think, because at that time, I had gotten over him.

And that was because of someone I knew as Aaron Savvier. He was one of the popular boys, so cool, so funny, so cute and good-looking. He was slightly plump, different from Archie's supreme skinniness. His shining hair stayed short. He was another one of those girls fell for. I liked him a lot. I knew it would be very hard to get over him, especially knowing he liked me back. But when he got his first girlfriend at a young age, I was crushed. It was as if all the feelings he held for me just brushed away over the summer, and I haven't been able to give a proper confession.

But when I accelerated from that grade, leaving the others behind, I entered a new world. In this world, there were few girls, bringing me to an even stronger bond to them than the ones I left behind. We stood strong against the army of boys. They were humorous, but a week would never pass by without a girl crying from the frustration these boys brought, the pain, their overconfidence and most especially their inconsiderateness.

Then there are girls who fall for bad boys. Gel did, but it didn't take her long to find that Justin's coldness did not signify his shrewdness; it signified his indifference to girls.

And there are girls who fall for no reason at all. Do you believe in love at first sight, diary?

Many don't. They say that this sort of infatuation just brings pain when you find that the person you've been longing for isn't as kind as his brilliant smile. Love requires you to know that person, and if you fall in love before you do… well, that's trouble. Fatal trouble.

Some do. It should be fate, a premonition, that such feelings surge inside you through just sight. Don't give up. God would not put you through such pain as to make fall in deep love through just sight. Keep looking; the person you love will come through.

I sure hope this is right, because the agonizing pain that I feel whenever I see his mischievous glance, his straight, shiny black fringe brushing over his eyes, the dark pool of wine that reflects my face, I want to clasp his pale figure in my arms and say everything was all right. He looks so alone in the crowd of boys, and yet his actions and tone of voice express that he wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

But I can't. Because whenever I speak to him, his voice is filled with either indifference or spite. We are not friends. We come from different worlds. But the second I entered the room, he caught my eye. And not only did he do that, but he stole my heart as well.

I can't live with this. I can't just grab a paper and just draw what I think of his face in smiling form. I can't put it on the wall above my bed, smile at him, and start getting ready for school. This will just agonize me even more, because when I see my true love, I know something that is similar between him and my picture. They never greet me with the same words.

I will not be able to rest in peace without telling him how I feel. But I'm afraid. He might take my feelings carefully. Surely no one has ever confessed to him before. But what if he uses me? Feelings this deep must not be played with, and yet I might be ready to be his puppet.

And nothing hurts more than being used by the one you love.

Love,
Shermayne

P.S. Vanilla ice cream is the best.

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A/N: It was a bit disappointing, even for me, but hey; I based this on the real world. The reason for that postscript is because that girl was eating ice cream at that time. Oh yeah, let me know if I should continue or not! This is just a draft to see what you think about it. Less than four reviews in three weeks will also make me delete this.