His story

He told me his story.

How bowed himself down and took all the blame on his shoulders for ALL the trouble.

And how he wanted, needed, wished, to hear them say that they're sorry for what they did to him as well, that they realize that he was hurt too. That although he had hurt others, part of the reason he did what he did was because of how HE was treated in the first place. By them.

Which is what he didn't get. Sorry is a word which were never offered to him, not once; not directly nor in passing.

How he felt nobody tries to understand his feelings. Or even bothered to know how he feels.

And I couldn't help it. I cried.
Looking at the hurt and pain so obvious in his eyes.

He was baffled when he realized there were tears in my own eyes.

- "Hey, why the hell are you crying ?"

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Later.

- "Did you realize, including today, this is the second time you are involved in some of the most significant steps that I took in my life?"
+ "Haha, is it?"

He named them.

+ "Eh ya lah, ah well, glad to be part of it"

He said he needed an ally. To pour it out. Also for advice.

I told him he could always talk to me about things.
To listen, that much I can assure him I could do well. But for advice?

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+"You wanna know why I cried just now?"
- "Why?"
+ "Coz it's so sad. And I think I know exactly how you feel"