I remember loooking at him and thinking,"wow he looks so happy just sitting ther with all his friends." I knew he would never notice me so I stayed safely tucked away with my group of friends dreaming about the day when he would come and sweep me off of my feet. He had so many perfections: his hair, eyes, smile, the way he crinkles his nose when he laugh, the way he throws his head from side to side and back again when something beautiful in his pathway. Then, one day he stopped acting the way he used to, but to me he still looked perfect. I wondered why he wasnt't the same anymore. I wanted to ask him, but I was nobody important to him, atleast I don't think I was. A couple of days later I got my answer. It wasnt what I wanted. it wasn't at all what I expected. He shouldn't have to go through this. He doesn't deserve to carry this weight on his shoulder. It couldn't be true. His long sleeve slid up on accident revealing his fresh scars. Quickly he pulled it down and looked around to see if anyone saw. I did. He knew it. He then got up and walked towards me and said he wanted to talk. I though to myself, "talk to me? Why me? He doesn't even know me?",but, "okay I'll help you get though this was my last response."