In one year, she said "I like you" three hundred and sixty-five times.
He smiled at her three hundred and sixty-five times in one year after her words.
The next year, she whispered "I like you" countless times alone. Sometimes, once a day, sometimes, several times a day. But not a word was brought to his ears by the wind.
The next year, he got a girlfriend and left countless hurtful memories.
In the third year, she sat at the table and flipped through the thick diary, saying "I like you" over and over again.
In the third year, he stood next to her, looked into her dull eyes, listened to her murmuring, and then solemnly told her, "I like you" over and over again.