To the boy with lonely eyes,
You were a quiet whirlwind who drifted into my life. A boy who had eyes deeper than the ocean and eyes filled with a void of endless thoughts. In some ways, it was difficult to know if I could reach you amongst all those thoughts, and it was a surprise that when I leapt into the deep, I found you.
Once a boy who was lost in thought,
Now a boy living and seeing what was in front of him.
To think it all began with a joke about your height and a joke about the fact you could not coil cables – that one instant lit a spark. It was a simpler time. We were still in first year, getting to know the ropes of being a university student, figuring out who was easy to talk to and getting to know each other. It was intimidating walking up to you, but I was curious about what lay waiting behind those melancholic eyes of yours. And I was glad that you were easy to talk to.
You built up walls around you
And I was going to climb them,
But you let me in through the front gate.
You allowed me to become your friend really quickly and I was happy. I could tell you were happy. I loved that I could joke around with you and spend time with you – you were a hidden comfort which eased my unease. Little did I know all this would amount to, well, us. You, a reserved boy who had the guts to profess his love in public with a bouquet of roses, surprised me. I picked up that you liked me a little, but I didn’t expect that you would act on it so soon and so daringly to show that. And I didn’t expect the words, I love you, to come out so soon.
In a quiet corner of endless stories
You decided to write one of your own.
We continued to be friends even after I declined, but I could feel myself falling for you; I think just about anyone would fall in love with you if you decided to declare your love like that to them. I remember calling you while I was on a committee retreat and, even though I told myself not to get too attached, I remember telling you that I was so glad to have met you. And I remember your response even more. Your voice was a little sombre and also so sincere when you said, “I think this is a, no you, moment.”
I heard your voice on the balcony that night
And I knew that I had fallen for you.
You were still figuring out where you stood with God, what you believed in and what you wanted. I was so happy knowing that you actively decided to learn more about God and was happy that I could be the one to help you find Him too. But it made me even happier knowing that you would one day be in heaven with God and knowing I would have another treasure in heaven to look forward to. At least, that’s what I thought.
You, an earnest boy who still had a lot to learn about the world
Leapt into the Word so quickly yet, so faithfully
But you didn’t expect the answers that were waiting for you.
It wasn’t the wisest idea to pursue you when you had only just begun searching for answers, but I prayed and talked to people and felt at peace with my decision. It was a Tuesday night, and we were sat beside the waterfront of Darling Harbour. We talked for a little bit while you came in and out of your own thoughts. And somewhere among the silence, I said I like you. Imagine my frustration when you said you already knew that, only to backtrack and ask me what I meant, and for me to embarrassingly clarify that I like, liked you.
I sat there dumbfounded and slightly amused
While you laughed nervously
And told me you wanted to pray for us.
That little spark had ignited into a small kindling, so unexpectedly soft and warm. And we spent time at ETC finding our ground, getting to know each other in a new way. I remember that you disappeared the night when people shared their woes and I was worried because I know you are so compassionate and that you feel other people’s pain personally. I looked for you everywhere, until I finally found you.
You, all alone in the world
Were thinking to yourself amongst the stars,
Then you turned and saw me
Standing in front of you.
You had so much going on up there, in your mind. But you came back to me and we shared some time to ourselves. You shared things about your father and you finally let some of the pain out. So I was happy. And I knew you were able to hide what you were thinking quite well; I knew that your silence hid a lot of grief. Not wanting you to internalise all your thoughts, I patiently waited for you to trust me and maintained the joy you so love to see – because I wanted to share your burdens and know that you weren’t bottling it all up inside.
What was once loneliness
In the sea of your mind,
Became a gentle stream of thoughts
That you shared with me.
I was really happy that you began sharing your woes because I got to see the weight lifted off your shoulders. I loved that you trusted me enough to show your vulnerable side and I loved that you comforted me in my vulnerability. So I mourn the fact that, somewhere along the way, you couldn’t trust me to tell me what was on your mind. In some ways, I think that’s maybe why I kept asking questions; you slowly stopped sharing your woes with me.
Let me ask you a question,
What’s on your mind?
Maybe I am overthinking it, and maybe it was because I had so many woes of my own that you thought you couldn’t share, because it would have burdened me more. But even so, I am a little sad that you wouldn’t let me hear what troubled you – I lament that you have been struggling with knowing who you are and what you want because I wish I could have been there for you.
You have been lost in another wave of thoughts
But one day, I hope you will find dry land again.
Your doubts are so persistent, and your questions are replaced by more after they are answered. I was determined to answer all your questions, but you knew you could just keep me going around in circles. Maybe in my stupidity I was prepared to do that, but I don’t think you wanted your questions answered, I think you were running away from the truth.
Where did you go?
I’ve been searching for you for a long time now.
We fought over something really stupid, something we hadn’t done before. And we said hurtful things and then you left, and I lashed out and said I hated you. I know it was wrong, but I was just so hurt, and I know that’s not an excuse. I wish I could have just said nothing and let you have your space – I wish you could have shared your excitement with me over our small and unexpected achievement, but most of all, I wish I never got excited over it in the first place.
I got a message that we were nominated for best sound,
Unexpectedly, and it was the highlight of my day
For one minute,
And I wanted to share that highlight with you
Because I knew you were stressed,
Then you told me,
You weren’t as excited as me,
And that was fine –
But you made it seem like you weren’t excited at all
And I was sad I couldn’t reach you.
The nomination won’t be an achievement I share, because you were right, it wasn’t a big deal. But you know, I was proud that, the first time we tried something like this, our efforts were recognised. I struggle with my work, not knowing whether it’s of a professional quality, and always feeling that it will never be good enough. How you reacted made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
I let my insecurities cloud my judgement
While you bottled up your thoughts again,
And I wish that I could have been there
For you instead.
The next time I saw you – from the moment you opened the door, you wouldn’t look at me in the eye. You were hiding your phone from me; it was painfully obvious. It wasn’t discreet at all. We were still together but I knew that all the hiding meant you had already changed your lock screen picture. And I don’t know why, but that’s what hurt the most.
I watched you from the other side of the room
While you shifted uncomfortably when reaching for your phone
And it was so easy to blame my anguish on other stresses,
But it was really because I was so hurt by you.
Sometimes I hate how observant I am, and I hate how good my memory is, because it just leads to a lot of grief. Most of the time I’d read your body language and ask you questions from there. And I guess you didn’t like my questions, because anytime I did ask something you thought I’d get upset about, you’d freeze up. And I wouldn’t get upset with your responses, I’d get upset that you responded that way and that you felt the need to hide it. It made me think I had something to be upset about – because you weren’t being upfront with me.
Is it my fault for asking questions?
I didn’t think it meant that you thought I didn’t trust you,
I just like knowing what happens in your life
Because I love you.
I know you don’t like talking about yourself a lot, but I wish you shared things about your day so I could celebrate or lament with you. You’d always take the time to hear about my day so I was a little sad I couldn’t do the same for you. That’s okay though, I was happy that you shared the important things.
After a long day you would hug me,
And want to hear about my day,
And you would look happy.
You, a brooding boy, brightened at the sight of my smile. It was subtle, but it was enough for me to notice. You loved my energy and bubbliness, so I did my best to be happy around you all the time. You would react to my excitement for small things and I was happy you were happy.
You are like the night –
Quiet and cast into overthought,
And I was the sun that brought you light.
You didn’t like it when I was quiet because I think you’ve always seen me as a bright and bubbly person. Maybe you assumed it meant I was sad or mad and that I wasn’t sharing with you, but sometimes I like the quiet – I like watching the world. And I loved it even more when you were with me to see the same sights, to laugh at the same things, to just be with you. I started to speak my thoughts more, however incomplete they were, so you would feel reassured that I was there with you, in the moment. That I wasn’t hiding away in the recesses of my mind like you had been.
I have cut myself out of the picture
Because I know it would be too painful to see you,
And because you can’t figure out who you are –
What you want, if I am around.
I am fond of the many memories I made with you and in some ways, I wish my memory wasn’t as sharp as it is because it means I have to live with these memories knowing I will be alone the next times I visit the same places. We visited so many places. I won’t be by your side because I can’t be. You still have things to figure out and you need to stop running away.
You, the boy who learnt how to live in the present
Slowly crept back into the darkness,
Putting up all the walls I had torn down;
You retreated behind those melancholy eyes once again
And insisted it was too hard
To live life under the sun.
To me, you will always be the quiet boy who has eyes deeper than the ocean – the boy whose thoughts never cease. And for better or for worse, you will always be the first boy who loved me.
Goodbye.
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