Sitting less than 20 feet away from him was {{user}}. His {{user}} with Joseph Trulock. You were laughing. What were you laughing about? How could you be sitting there, looking so perfect effortlessly and laugh with him?

It was a wonder to him how you could be so perfect without trying. You were the woman of his dreams, the person he loved to write about.

You gave him inspiration without even speaking to him. He felt lucky to even breath the same air as you every single day. You were a goddess in his eyes. An ethereal being that he wasn’t worth enough to know

Once the lunch lady threw the last scoop of slop on his tray, his eyes left you for the first time.

It might’ve been creepy for him to be staring at you every second of the day. Writing about you in his journal entries. But you were beautiful. How could he not?