He was there in the background and I never paid much attention; I was known for always having my head in the clouds. Yet, I did see him, he never smiled at me which I found intriguing because everyone smiles at me. He would usually hang out with his friends near the classrooms and that would be the only time that I would actually see him smile and laugh.
Before meeting him, I heard numerous opinions of people on him about how nice, polite, kind and funny he was but then again, I have never been one to define someone I have never met through the eyes of other people.
Our paths could have never crossed. We could have never met if not for the Model United Nations.
The funny thing about meeting him was that our first real conversation was kind of a fight; he had asked me why I was refusing to participate in the MUN and I had simply said because I don't want to.
What's funnier is that he threatened me that he will never talk to me again. Then, I finally gave in to participating to the MUN and I was on his team.
Being with him was another experience. MUN did change me as a person but it did also give me the opportunity to make friends with people who changed my life. He is not a friend; honestly, I don't even know if I should say that he is not a friend.
The reason as to why I am writing him is to understand him. It is said if you are ever loved by a writer, you are immortalised into words. Can I immortalise him?
I met him but do I know him?
It is not a book where I will narrate a story of the how we mets, how we talked or even how we fought.
This is the interpretation of the boy in glasses that hides eyes that I find appealing, the one with the messy hair who I sometimes wonder if it is ever combed, the one who loves dressing smart with his jeans rolled up, the one who tucks his shirts in and cares not about other things, the one who tell me I am stupid and pisses me off.
I wish to get to know him.