The Boy I Knew

Valentines' Day is around the corner, and it's always seen as a day for Love, and confession, and lovey-dovey activities with your other half coupled with expensive chocolates, flowers and indulgent dinners. Love is love. There's no need for too many hearts and flowers. I was inspired to write something different this time.

If Valentines' Day is all about love, then I want to think about the 'who's we almost loved.

"We don't always choose who we truly love."

Play this track and read on.


Love is a journey on a train that never stops. It stops at every destination, but is never a destination itself. It is pliant; moving; malleable.

Sometimes, we get off at the first stop.
Sometimes, we give Love a chance and sit for half the journey.
Sometimes, we almost reach our destination.
Sometimes we let it go. We bolt.

The boy I knew was a strange kind of sweet. He was warm, friendly and distinctively pale. He came in a fancy package. (Is it always the fanciest packages that have something to hide?) He was perfect in many ways: Sensitive, caring, obvious. He was obvious in showing who he cared about, and I suppose, that's a quality that many girls adore.

The boy I knew initiated the conversations. He was too shy. His shyness made him all the more adorable though. He was trying hard but trying to make it look effortless. He made me laugh. He was afraid of rats and cockroaches. The first time I witnessed it, I smiled to myself but really, rolled over with laughter in my mind. He had so many fears and he let himself be vulnerable by letting me know. Not every guy wants to be emasculated by his fears, so I appreciated his honesty. I guess, rats and roaches are not things he will protect me from then. I would be protecting him instead. And it would have been okay.

The boy I knew allowed me to be a girl. He was someone who you could be every element of a classic female with. He allowed you to cry, to try, to be irrational, to be overly concerned about others' feelings, to be caring, to go out of your way to help others. He loved but was never selfish about it. He wasn't stubborn, nor was he difficult to communicate with, but he was distant. He had never put his head out for me. He never showed enough.

The boy I knew put me in a box. He was so warm, and so thin, and so nice about everything. He was somewhat of a control freak, which was okay since varying degrees of control freakery was acceptable to me. Some degree of control is what fuels a strong personality. Seemingly bad traits are not always bad because they encourage character development in many other areas. He wasn't possessive. He was in fact, on the other end of the spectrum. I wondered if he was someone who didn't mind sharing. He was the only person who dug deeper. Most people who meet him are ripped from the seams. He scathes those who have weak personalities, but he also made people strong. He made people believe in him. He made me believe in him.

I almost believed him. Then I stopped.

It's safe to say that we will never know who we truly love if we never decide to love them back.

Love is a journey on a train that never stops. It stops at every destination, but is never a destination itself. I let it go. I bolted.