There was a quiet boy in my maths tuition who rarely spoke. We sat near each other for almost a year, but our conversations were mostly about homework and test dates.
On my birthday, he gave me a small notebook. Inside, he had written tiny memories from the entire year—my complaints about algebra, the day I came crying after a school fight, the chocolate I said I liked, even a random joke I had forgotten.
I realised that while I thought he barely noticed me, he had been paying attention to everything. We never dated because life took us to different cities, but even after many years, that notebook remains one of the most thoughtful gifts I have received.