Hey, it's me again… this may or may not be a chaptered story… I'm not sure yet, because I have "For the last time" that I'm working on now and then I have a story after that that I'm planning.

But for now, I give you this…

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I'm in love. I want to scream it out to the world, let them know everything about it. But I can't, because it's not appropriate. I can't tell my mom, can't tell my friends, cant tell anybody but him.

It all started innocently enough; his sister introduced us and we, I guess you could say, "hit it off", right away. And then next thing I know, he's inviting me over to study. Lots of people think I shouldn't like him, but I can't help the way my heart works. He's perfect.

The way he smiles at me and genuinely means it is a lot to me. It makes me feel like kissing him, although I know I shouldn't so I don't. But I'm in love, and I don't care who knows it.

OK, OK, there are a couple people that I would care if they knew it. A lot. But we'll eventually tell them all when we go to the dance together.

Just saying his name to myself in the dark makes me feel special inside. I love him, I love him, I love him….

I sigh as I close my journal. I wrote this in the middle of the year, when I was sure we would last. We did last, we're OK now, I think. We met last month at the beach. Funny, this is where we were the first time we met. What he said then really made me think about everything. About my future. About how he's gone.

He had driven us. I could have driven, but he said he wanted to, and, plus, it was his car. He has the nicest car ever, a bright green convertible his parents bought him. We had spent many afternoons fixing it up and driving it around.

So when we got to the beach we unpacked all the blankets and stuff we had brought. I thought we were just there to have fun. God, was I wrong!

He set up our umbrella and our blanket in a clear area. We made small talk, lying on our backs, him talking about his sister, me working in our friends… it was fine until he brought up his decision.

"Marco," he started, looking away. "I've been accepted into the University of British Columbia."

What?!? What are you talking about? You wouldn't dare! How could you do this to me? I screamed at him in my mind.

"Oh, congratulations, Dyl." I shut my eyes to drown everything out.

"You SO don't mean that," he said simply, taking my hand. "It's OK, I want to hear what you have to say."

I roll onto my stomach, so that I'm looking at him. "What I have to say?" The honesty in his eyes tells me he's sincere. He looks almost upset. "What I have to say? That's like, halfway across the country…." I'm trailing off now, and I can't stand the way he's looking at me.

"Dyl… I thought you were staying here next year."

"I wasn't planning on getting accepted! Listen, I'm sorry…." And he is.

"But what about me? What about….Us? I thought we had a future. I thought for sure you wouldn't leave me." I'm crouched up now, almost crying. I won't cry. I can't cry for him.

He's up now, gripping my hand, wiping away my tears. "I don't want to leave you." He's smiling at me now, and I can feel the muscles in my cheeks start to turn up.

"I don't want to start again," I look into his eyes and see endless personality, love, caring, frustration…

"It's only four years. When I come back, we'll still be as we are. We won't meet anyone else. I promise."

"ONLY four years? Dylan, people change over four years. What if you're different? More mature? And what if I'm not good enough for you any more? What if…"

"I won't change. You're always going to be good enough for me."

Yeah, he won't change. When he comes back to visit, he'll be a brand new Dylan, with a new hair cut and new clothes and, I dread this, probably a new boyfriend. He's going to change, but I'm not sure if he'll be too good for me.

I'm not sure how we'll get along. I'm not sure, and this makes me nervous.

We might not be the same, we might not get along. He taught me a lot along the way and I hope I can still look at him the same way. I hope I can think of him the same way. Paige said he called her, and he's thinking of going to Europe for the summer. So I won't see him for a while. And I'll miss him.

But until he comes back, every time I see a tall blond boy walking by, I'll look at his face. I'll watch hockey games and actually understand them. But most of all, I'll look everywhere and try to find his green convertible.

Even when he comes back I'll look for his car, because that was something we shared.