I met Alex when we were two. We were next door neighbors. We'd spend every day together. When we turned seven, he moved to Australia. I cried for days. I was seven years old, losing my best friend was the worst feeling. I still talked to him, though. I'd e-mail him. I'd talk to him on the phone. It wasn't the same though. Later, he came back. And I was so excited. We weren't neighbors anymore, but I still got to see him often. When we got oldeer, he was diagnosed with Leukemia. I was so scared. I wanted him to survive. He did. The last time I saw Alex was February 28, 2009. He had a transplant for his cancer, and he had a party for the one year transplant anniversary. His cancer came back after a while. I thought "If he survived once, he'll survive again, right?" Wrong. I lost him when I was in seventh grade. That was two years ago. I'm a freshman in high school now. I cried for days when I lost my best friend, and I still do. /: I always wish I could have taken his place. Why couldn't I have gotten the cancer instead of him? I should've had it, not Alex.