i noticed you, but knew i could only do so in heart-wrenching silence. i seeked refuge through doing things i thought would heal this pain. i tried looking into the eyes of other girls. what feelings reciprocated couldn't beat what the pair of your ever-so attractive eyes did to my life. each time we came into a direct eye-contact, my eyes fixates even after yours linger. i wanted to speak up, and i wanted to approach. i wanted to know you, and i really wanted to be your friend. but the balls were still kept tight in the underwear. 

my momma bought me my first pair of boxers. the balls cheered and danced together. i took that as a directional sign, that i should garner up all my courage and approach you. i watch drama serials, i watch variety shows. i took special attention when a guy approaches a stranger for her number. i had at least 83 different methods to do so. i scanned through my list on a lonely saturday night, and picked one i thought would work. i stood in front of the mirror, and rehearsed at least a million times - "in life, i only listen to 3 girls. my mother, my sister, and my girlfriend. i have my mother and my sister to listen to now. will you be the last girl that i'll listen to.?" i thought it would work, until my dad knocked my head and screamed, "SHARON SO PRETTY.! SO SEXY.! (eh that time bbq wu bo)" and i told him off because the martell doesn't warrant you to flick a single criticism on my girl. i continued rehearsing. it was 12 midnight. it was your birthday. i picked up the phone, look through my contact list and scrolled down to the letter 'S'. there, right before my eyes, was the 3 holy words, SEXY LITTLE BITCH, follwed by an 8-digit number. i stared, and then thought, "eh i must call mummy to ask where she is. so late already, still outside." so i called my momma, got what i wanted to know, and scrolled down to the next name on the contact list below SEXY LITTLE BITCH. S-H-A-R-O-N, and i had positive goosebumps. i depressed the dial-call button, put the phone against my ear, and waited for you to pick up my call. you picked up the phone, and i heard somebody half-snoring, half-saying, "what,". i quickly rejected the call, not of fear that i might have awaken you from your sleep, but because you snored like a pig. 

i was elated to learn that you were streamed into my class. i went to the temples and the churches to give thanks. the first time i walked into class E3/4, i spotted you, at the corner of a classroom, talking to lynette and sulin. i walked over to the table. my heart was jumping at an unhealthy rate, the blood vessels threatened to burst, i was panting, a serious problem of lack of oxygen. in my hands, the paper tab i was holding was soaked in cold sweat. on it read, 'TAF CLUB'. i had just finished running 2 rounds around the field. 

you suddenly burst out laughing, and i stared at you for a good one minute. you suddenly turned, and looked into my direction. you stopped laughing, waved, and said, "EH HO BO." i was so happy that you wanted to talk to me. i started walking towards the table you were at, the corners of my mouth almost touching the ears. i was smiling really hard, until chen shufei bumped into my shoulders, and walked past me. you were waving to her, not me. i looked around, and strategically picked a place that was in proximity to your table. i looked at the punjabi-boy who was sitting beside the seat i wanted to take and the laughing-you simultaneously. it took me only 2 seconds to think, "fuck it. this sacrifice will prove to be worthy.!" 

from then on, i found it hard to concentrate during lessons. each time i turned to my left and engage in a conversation with punjabi-boy, i was half-listening, my concentration being channelled fully onto the beautiful face of yours. sometimes, when punjabi-boy is sick, and doesn't want to speak, i will be the one to start the conversation, so that i have a good reason to look towards your direction. sometimes, the need becomes too interrupting, and the topics with punajabi-boy had long ran dry, i'd try as i might to somehow churn up a topic, such as when i asked him, "eh you punjabi why you never wear turban," or, "eh i got look like cristiano ronaldo,". you get the point.

i finally had the courage to talk to you, and we became very good classmates. i didn't know what to do when mrs lena ang handpicked me to sit in front of you. i swear i saw stars and was at a loss. i immediately stood up from my old seating and ran to the table in front of yours. i sat, crossed my leg, turn behind to look at you, rested my head on my folded arms, and blinked my eyes rapidly, like what a girl would do when the boyfriend says, "no," to the LV handbag. you looked into my eyes, and i could sense a strong heat radiating in between our faces. i was in heaven. at least i felt like i was in heaven. i have prayed for this day to be realised, and god did answer my prayer. i continued looking into your eyes, and you continued looking into mine. then suddenly, you tapped my shoulder, and said, "er you forget to bring your bag and books.?" and pointed to my initial seating. 

4 months into our new seating arrangement, i got to know you better. each time i wanted to turn back to talk to you, the girl beside me, madam teo sulin, would tuck at the sleeves of my uniform to ask a mathematical question or tell me something that has got nothing to do with me. fear of provoking your sister, and thus indirectly provoking you, i entertained her and taught her math and science and humanities, and english, and chinese (YESTERDAY WHEN ASK YOU JOEY OR RYAN YOU SHOUT RYAN SO LOUDLY WITHOUT ANY THOUGHT RIGHT. SHOUT SOMEMORE LA.). that was my motto when i was with you - your sister asked me for help in math, i taught her mathsciencehumansenglishchinese. i was willing to do things a hundred fold more than you have initially asked of me. that day, at the canteen, you tapped my back and, "can help me buy ice milo.?". i turned away, made use of my phone, and 10 minutes later was down at the parade square waving my hands in a backward action, helping 7 truck drivers reverse safely into their lots. on the 7 trucks each bore the word 'MILO'. i had ordered for 7 truckloads of ice milo (those that visit the school annually), and 85 bouncers to keep the rest of the students at a safe distance. your sisters told you what happened and you couldn't believe it. you ran to take a look, and i saw you blushing. that was the first time i saw you blushing, and for something that i had done. i beamed, took out my ray-bans, put it on, fished out the handphone, and took a self-portrait. ah, yet another addition to my friendster collection.

back at class, i couldn't get myself to turn back. i didn't dare to. my holmies came up to me and gave me a salute for my chivalry. one of them even, "eh siao eh, lookim suave ah.!"  and if i remembered correcetly, it was darren.

i hold your hands, bring you to scale the mountains, to conquer the seas. i wanted to bring you along to genting, but you said it was boring, so we settled for brunei instead, and boy, was it fun.! we went to the cathay, you were in my arms, and the soothing music of lunar node was playing in our ears. we looked at the stars, and you suddenly screamed, "SHOOTING STAR.! QUICK MAKE A WISH.!" you closed your eyes, but mine was still opened. the shooting star became bigger and bigger, and i realised it got closer and closer. you opened your eyes and cursed because a dog had its penis tickling your fat cheeks. i had forgotten to inform you that lunar node was playing for WORLD ANIMAL DAY. we turned to our right, and saw a very very very very very short girl, not taller... no, not longer than yaoming's middle finger, tearing badly. you decided to go over to console her. 3 minutes later, you told me the story, and whispered into my ears, "we should never become like this dear." i smiled. 

15 minutes later we were down at the pool hall and you knn fucking cb tell me when febian sit beside you your heart beep boop beep boop kaninabu. 

i was LPLL-ed. i looked into your eyes, and asked whether you wanted this bad enough. you said, "you will have to make things work my darling boy." i said, "okay," and continued fixing the keyring, adjusting the length of each suede, typing the beads up together all over again, trying my best to fulfill your wish to make things work. 

today, you said you wanted me to hold your hands. i rubbed my left hand against your right. this is what you called the pre-stage of holding hands. and... it went on like that. for the rest of the day. my hand rubbing against yours. -.-

she is eating a 2 piece chicken meal. i am smiling because she tears off the chicken skin and soaks a tissue paper with the chicken oil. it is a very cute scene, and i love it very much. she is fat, yet she is trying.

okay sorry for the very sudden change in tone from a joking ficticious one to a ultra serious one, but..

my sharon will not cry in all circumstances, for she has friends and friends, and many many more friends that will stand by her side at all costs. she will be guarded by all her friends, and nothing should try to play-punk with her heart. she will finish sorting out her feelings and stop her endless crying in lonely nights. my sharon will stay strong and constantly remind herself that she has good friends like yulineileenlhcserenelynettedawnsulin, the kind of sisters that will never part. she will get to know of more handsome guys in this singapore, and will finally find one that will truly love her all in all. she will learn to find other things to do in lonely nights to make her happy instead of crying. she will learn to let go and think of other handsome people. stay strong like a bull okay.? halfway there my friend, you already look like one. :)