P. S. Just thought I'd adda bit more...
BM: So I made the call. It felt like a torrent of water rushing past, leaving me dripping wet and cold. The chilling sense of intrusion was rapidly replacing the pressure and I could almost taste the annoyance from the other end.
BM: This was exactly like every other impulsive thing I had done in my life and I instantly regretted it. My mind froze up and I didn't know what to say, therefore throwing me into a state of panic in which I yammered all sorts of idiotic notions that popped into my head.
BM: She played along for a while, but her patience wore thin. Have you ever reached that point in the conversation where you've got nothing to say but curt replies in a dragging, never-ending cycle? It really threw me off when out of the blue she asked if I knew the chords to 'Uninvited' by Alanis Morisette.
BM: Ahh.... Uninvited. That cold, hollow song that more or less says it all in the title. The desolate ending song to a pathetic movie. It was like she stabbed me in the back and I didn't even know I was bleeding. There was some instinct in me, though, that alerted me to the presence of cold steel; pierced through my pride. The primal fear came forth and I realised I could not even hope to be considered worthy of her. It was best that I withdraw and lick my wounds, salvaging what little pride I had left. This was the last time I spoke to her...
BM: Despite everything else going on, there was this nagging feeling of restlessness and loneliness. I had decided to quit cold turkey and stop calling her. Instead, I chose to admire her from within my memories and for a while things seemed to be a little better.
BM: I had hoped that by turning my back on her, I could grow stronger and finally have the strength to admit that I should leave her alone. I had hoped that I could eventually forget her completely... but...
BM: .. the pull was too strong. Everytime I denounced my emotions they came surging back. Doubt and disbelief can sometimes give a man hope, and hope will often bring on the biggest fall.
BM: And so I succumbed. How could I not? Her voice in my tortured memories was like some Siren's call. I was compelled to plunge heedlessly forward eyes closed. The buildup of hope was such a huge pressure that I could no longer resist...
Okay, 2nd try...
BM: It's just that everytime I called it felt like I was intruding into her personal time. Every word I uttered felt like the dull thud of clumps of dirt thrown on my coffin. I felt like I was making her angrier with every call.
BM: Anyway, things weren't going anywhere. Our phone conversations were distancing us more than anything and she persistently refused to see me in person. 
BM: Not that I blame her, though. I was truly my mother's boy and wouldn't last 10 seconds on my own. Curfews and restriction on mobility really limited my own ability to seek her out. Not that life at that point made things any easier... major exams were coming closer and extensive preperations had to be taken care of to ensure a brighter future (or so my parents told me).
BM: Throughout the early performances I was consistently impressed by her many talents. Music, literature and science... she was clearly in a league for beyond mine but that didn't stop me from trying. It's strange though... I can't quite recall any of the performances that day.
BM: After the performances the elocution contest began and my turn came up quickly. Panic set in as I was confronted by unfamiliar grounds and a hallful of talent. I lost control of my arms and they were flailing all over the place in a pathetic attempt to add emphasis to my words. I looked like a bloody windmill. It was only a small blessing that I still managed to deliver my speech properly.
BM: She, however, was as professional as she was on our first meeting. I could have sworn she was even better than she had ever been and the crowd must have thought the same. Once more she flawlessly played the audience like a musical isntrument and it was obvious the competition was hers.
BM: I felt hesitant to approach her after. I hadn't done very well, although my English teacher felt that given the amount of time I had been given it was indeed a valiant effort. Realising that this would be truly my last chance, I steeled myself and congratulated her and bade her farewell. For my efforts, I was rewarded with her phone number and acknowledgement. Things definitely looked better, this time...
BM: The competition was held at a different school, one far bigger and more impressive than mine. I was gawking like a slack-jawed yokel while inside I was fighting to suppress the nervousness that threatened to come up.
BM: The hall where the competition was being held was large and intimidating. It was buzzing with the participants, judges and students forced into providing entertainment prior to, and after, the main event. Everybody was getting prepared and the prospects didn't look very good for me. I was sweating as I gazed at the talent all around me when...
BM: ... all of a sudden I spotted her within the crowd. I can't remember exactly how I felt at that moment but I imagine all that pent-up nervousness just decided to mutate and explode right at that moment into a mixture of fear, confusion and perhaps a tint of longing and gratitude.
BM: This was beyond a coincidence, and if it was indeed divine providence then I would be a greater fool to ignore it. Making my way towards her I fumbled a greeting and hoped that I wasn't nailing my coffin shut. With a nervous grin I stood there for a few seconds while she tried to recall who I was... and was instantly relieved when she at last recalled our last meeting, if not my name. I had a leg to stand on, at least, and it was far from the worst scenario I imagined.
BM: There was to be a 2-man elocution contest at another school. My seniors were supposed to participate, but one couldn't make it. This forced the English teacher to turn to the debate team for help. The others were hesitant, but being the attention-hog I am I accepted.
BM: It was a pretty last-minute thing so I didn't have much time to prepare. I hastily wrote a short essay on some trivial topic I found in the news and taking themes from previous presentations I had done. It wasn't very well researched and I was hoping that my delivery would be sufficient to pull me through, so I knew I had to work on that.
BM: I didn't have any coaching on how to handle elocution contests, and I had not done anything of the sort outside of my school. I really did not know what to expect, although I really didn't have much time to worry about this. I had to make do with the little time I had as well as the audience I had to put up with...
Xi Nien Quai Ler! Gong Xi Fa Chai!
BM: Funny thing, though... If you just stop and think for a while all that resentment eventually dissipates and what fills the void is a sense of admiration. We were well and truly beaten by the best, and they weren't poor winners either. Shaking hands, we bid each other farewell.
BM: Of course as time passed I began to accept that I would never see her again. Our schools were far apart and the only thing I had of her was a memory. Man, I sure was pathetic and I regret that. Anyway, it's not like I didn't have other things to think of at the time. Exams were drawing near and preparations had to be done. Panic partially dulled the emptiness.
BM: Strange thing about my life, though: God has always given me second chances. Always. I don't know what I did to deserve them, but this was one of those times...