September 30, 2008

Dear Diary,

        I visited. My father had a look of exhausion, but also pride. He's proud of his son. It feels nice.

        My mother's mint tea is the same as always. Sweet, but just the right amount. Not too sweet, too bland, or too minty. Just perfect. Too bad my father cannot appreciate it. Everything he consumes is monitored. He'd never be able to enjoy it again, with the amount of sugar put into it. He wouldn't be able to handle it. They'd have to cut his leg right off, right then.

        Things are well at school. Not all of my classes are very enjoyable, but, that's life. I just have to keep going and persevere.

        That strangely friendly boy. He's been avoiding my gaze, I can tell. Occasionally, I catch myself staring. Not only because of his insanely good looks, but because of my confusion. Why does he act this way towards me?