Meh

 He had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. Depending on the light they could turn grey, green or blue, but blue (the original) was always my favourite. He had a very ugly nose that bothered me a lot when we kissed, but I usually didn't care. He had a smile that could calm me down just by watching it, the warmest smile and funniest laugh in the world. And he cried. Quite a lot. The first time I saw him crying we were in my house, upstairs laying on the futón. I don't even remember why he was crying, something related with his father I think, but my natural instinct was to dry his tears and he didn't let me. He didn't let me touch him. I didn't understand. The last time I saw him crying was three years ago, the last time I actually saw him. That time the depression was clear, his necesity to talk everything out. I let him speak and I asked him if I could hug him. He said yes. I wanted to kiss him but I didn't dare to ask, I knew the answer.