You can count on him to have the grooviest dance moves during every party, and he has the loudest laugh you’ll ever hear. He’s the comedian in every gathering, and his best joke? Himself. To be honest, he was a ball of anxiety and self-doubt, and his grooviest dance moves were just socially acceptable ways of slamming his body to the floor. He is the subtle frown in confusion, the silent way his eyes calculated a problem, the small twitch of his lips in dismay. And I’ve always been unsure if I preferred seeing him in such a fashion, rather than the facade he’s always showing, when seeing him in such a state has made his vulnerable expressions imprinted at the back of my mind. But the fact that only I have ever seen him on the other side of this spectrum showed the amount of trust he’s given to me. So here we both were – dancing, it would seem, to most people. When really, we were just gripping tight to each other as we allowed our bodies to thrash around the air. We see through each others’ facade, and it is both a burden we have to carry, and a secret we were willing to keep.