The Appointment Three Years Ago

I used to be a very unsophisticated boy—without dreams, without passion, without interest—living on animal instinct, ignorant and adrift.

Until one day, I met her: algorithm.

She changed everything.

Back then, I was a poor student. No one, absolutely no one, even myself, would have associated me with algorithms or the Olympiad in Informatics. But the moment I saw my first line of code, something inside me stirred. I fell in love—deeply, irrevocably.
I began teaching myself, late into the nights, on an old laptop, with no guidance, no support.

I took part in CSP and NOIP, not because I expected to win or sometimes, but because I finally had something worth fighting for.

And deep down, I wanted to prove one thing: I am as capable as anyone.

Holding my tattered copy of Introduction to Algorithms, I made an appointment with her:

“Once I have the chance, I’ll do it.”

That was our appointment—three years ago.

From that day on, I focused on high school, preparing for the college entrance examination. For a fifteen-year-old boy, so lost and raw, that promise became a quiet revolution. It changed me—more than I ever imagined.

To honor it, I had to let it go.

I buried the appointment deep in my heart, along with every thought of algorithms, competitions, and dreams. I pretended to forget—because in the world of exams and rankings, there was no room for nostalgia.

All that remained was the passion, the commitment, the dedication, and the quiet urge to become someone who could one day return.
That was why high school was so hard—not just the workload, but the silence.

The pain, the pressure, the long nights of studying without knowing if it would ever matter.

But the hard work paid off.

I didn’t just survive—I was reborn.

After the college entrance exam, I buried the appointment so deep that I almost forgot it.

But today—October 24th, The Programmer’s Day—reminded me.

Three years have passed.

I may not become a programmer, but I still carry the same fire for algorithms.

Three years ago, I had no resources, no support, no real chance—let alone hope for the Olympiad.

Yet that passion, that urge, was the true beginning of my journey in learning.

From algorithms, I learned how to think.

From struggle, I learned how to grow.

And from that forgotten appointment, I learned how to keep a promise to
myself.

I fell in love with learning—and I’ve decided:

I will never stop.