Nhờ sửa bài giúp

The first time I met him I couldn't know what he would have meant to me then.

That school year ended fast and I thought that I wouldn't have seen him anymore: we lived far away and he was older than me by three years.

We had spent so many breaks looking at each other, hoping that we could have met someday, and I knew that sometimes he asked for me to a classmate of mine, Margherita, who was his best friend and also a good friend of mine.

A girl completely different from me, in short, who had hair black as the night and a sweet glance.

One evening I met him in my favourite club and danced together just for a while, before he went away, and it happened also other evenings.

I don't know if it was a coincidence, but I started to see him walking around the city center with his friends, more and more often, but maybe was just 'cause I paid it attention now.

There has been a kiss in the club, last saturday, a sweet wonderful kiss, while he stroked my face and hair and I was so happy I could die; then I've seen him monday, hangin' out with his friend.

We were both embarassed and silent, like nothing happened.

He had also my number, but didn't send me any sms.