I first met him in high school. He honestly wasn't much back then, but to me he was. A scrawny 10th grader that only shared one class with me. I was in year 8. It was an elective music class with a bunch of year 8,9, and 10th graders. I remember perving on him whilst playing the same song. I can't remember what it exactly was that I was playing - I think it was Piano Sonata K.545. I remember not liking him at first. Too sarcastic and sassy. I actually thought he was gay. But as the weeks passed and we had shouting competitions across the classroom, I grew fond of him. We talked online sometimes, but it never felt like enough. He had rectangular glasses that were kind of crooked and short, fuzzy hair. He gave me tight hugs. We developed our own religions, probably the most popular one being how he'd bring me coffee to school, and I'd give him a hug as payment. This was called "coffee prostitution". Comfortably close. Not acquaintances, not best buds. We used to play together - a song called "say something". It was honestly the best. I remember one day when it was raining hard. I had a shitty umbrella and I went into the undercroft. He gave me the biggest hug and spun me around. I still remember how strongly he smelled of cologne, and I loved it. He was rather skinny back then and I didn't even think he could get skinnier, but he did, after the diagnosis. I remember him to always be the cheery type, always happy and flamboyant. I thought he'd stay the way. But he didn't after the diagnosis. He attended school pretty regularly, and I thought he'd keep those habits. Though a little bit of a troublemaker, he was bright. But alas, he didn't attend much after the diagnosis.
The boy I wouldn't admit I loved, was going blind.
