Graduation Night

Even now, my head still feels as though I was hit hard by a nail board from behind. I feel dizzy. The events last night totally opposed the planned theme for our school's Graduation Night. "James Bond"... He is supposed to be a calm and rational top-class killer, and a very formal tuxedo-man at that. The balls he appeared in, mostly disguised as a spy, for all I know, doesn't involve radical fail-dancing actions and radical shiekings in a room of flashy colors. No one smoked in the room, which is what I'm glad about. How can I describe last night with one sentence? Hmm... A classic prom night from the '80s sardine-packed by typical Singaporean gangster wanna-bes youths who indicate that parties are not parties without shieking and pushing around.

The worst thing that I could ever have expected was to be sitted on Table '6', right beside an anti-social, talkative, bad-tempered and irritating lunatic. For the entire 4-hours, I was bugged and annoyed by this bug-bear non-stop, complaining on how things didn't go his way, and how the people within the Graduation Night didn't worship his God, who was another friend of mine who was a troll, although unpopular.

Initially, my friends had expected me to be sitted on the same table as my prom date. However it appeared to be otherwise. Instead, as I said, I sat right beside that psychotic, another weird person of the same calibre as the psychotic, with the exception of the latter being more sloppy in conversation and hates socializing, and a bunch of guys and girls whom I eventually befriended and mixed around with. For the entire night, shieking from wild female party baboons were inevitable. Sabotages made on the more popular and fun people were also inevitable either. Then the psychotic person next to me laughed PROUDLY, "It pays to be unpopular". In fact, it DOESN'T pay to be unpopular. That dude and his other unpopular nerd and jerk friends were left out like a bag of fishes out of water. I, on the other hand, went on to have fun with my other cronies and, of course, my prom date.

In this stanza, I shall admit one thing: While I actually had fun in the prom night, the fun didn't had a climax. Every five to ten minutes, the... umm... girl, who isn't my prom date and my childhood friends can briefly guess, appeared in my sight. She didn't wear any jewelleries nor anything of 'bling'. She simply wore some gothic black dress which was totally out of the theme for the Graduation Night. I had no chance of even saying "Hi" to her, fearing the traumatic outcome which had started right after the birthday gift I gave her last year, as well as the awkwardness if my prom date, or any other classmates, or even ex-classmates, were to see me getting ignored by the girl I had a crush on... I had no chances at all. I didn't want to spoil the mood that night, so I let that slim chance slip away. Later that night, a lot of my classmates and friends came and asked me, "Today is the last time we will be seeing one another already. Why never check on that girl?" I had no intentions of upsetting them nor myself, so I simply replied casually, "It's okay, I've gave up already."

Truth is, I have never given up on anything in life. It is part of my instinct: The fight is never over. I find it hard to bite the bullet that I lost that courage to do what I could do best that night... I find it hard to accept. I never see defeat during a battle; only victory surged my heart. Before every battle, I will make an oath in my heart: that win or lose, it doesn't matter so long as it is not a battle for survival. It goes the same for this battle.

Let God roll His dice over our fates. Perhaps the next time I encounter her again, with the spiritual courage to achieve in me, will be decided by Himself. As of now, I'll continue to keep my cool and be myself till the reaper waves his scythe over my head. I will not act on impulse until "007".

Until one day...