We both get our backpacks out of the living room, and head upstairs. When we get to my room, I throw my backpack on the bed and then sit at my desk then open up the computer. Justin sits on my bed, with a surprised look on his face, realising he sat on my huge stuffed bear that he got for me on Valentine's day last year. I named him boobear (Louis' nickname :) ) "Don't sit on Boobear babe!" I playfully gasp. He throws Boobear at my face and it turns into a huge pillow fight... I get up and hit him across the face with my purple fuzzy pillow that my dad bought for me on my 9th birthday. "Ow! You're so mean!" he smiles. "Shut up." I say playfully. I turn my chair and face the computer that lights my face and lights up the room with the brightness of the screen. Then I look on my favorite, but depressing website that's named Findmylostlove.com. I put out signs and flyers and messages to other people asking if they have ever seen my dad. "No messages." I say, glumly. "We are going to find him." he reassures me. "But how?" I wished he had said goodbye." I say. "He still loves you no matter where he is, I swear." he says. "It's easier for you to say." I say, feeling a bit jealous of him. "It'll all be over when we find him. Just imagine you running up to him and jumping into his arms and him kissing your head." he says. "I always have dreams about him. But starting this year, I know it's him, but his face is blurred or he doesn't have a face. Sometimes if I'm having a bad day and someone has caught me off guard with their thories of ways he might be dead, I dream of him dying, right in front of me without me being able to help him." I cry. Tears prick my eyes while I talk about my dreams and thoughts that I've never shared with anyone. "My mother writes letters to him and she puts them in a box that she'll give them to him the day he comes back, if he comes back." I say. "He will come back" he says. "My mom always listens to the tapes and cds that he used to record his voice on and send us pictures of him while he was in the army." I tell him. "I loved doing that while my dad was in the army." he says. My dad came home for Ariana's birth a year ago and a week later after her birth, he dissapeared. Nobody could tell us where he was, he wasn't answering his phone, and he was nowhwhere to be found. For the whole year, my mom looked and searched for him, but after a year, she just gave up.
