I don’t even know how to begin this blog post. I have a feeling it is going to be lengthy.
[pause]….
Despite taking 20 odd lessons (anybody can tell you it is way more than an average private candidate), I still failed my TP yesterday. 7th May 2013 was the day that I was looking forward to the most. Happened to be the exact opposite of what I thought.
I was feeling great, confident and full of smiles leaving the circuit that I had failed to realise it was already game-over for me. The hardest part was that I still naively thought I stood a chance while cruising along the test route, did all the safety checks etc and back to BBDC thinking it was an almost guaranteed pass.
After the tester announced the results and pointed my mistakes, I didn’t even have an ounce of strength to lift myself off the chair and walked out the room. It was on the second floor where I simply stood by the staircase blankly, like everything was just a dream. Through my eyes, the passer-bys, stairwell looks faded with an empty mind. I couldn’t hear the queue number sound, feel the heat of the morning as if all my sensory were blocked.
My instructor wanted me to inform him the minute the result is known which I had ALWAYS pictured it to be a PASS. I knew I had to call him, but I couldn’t. I finally plucked some courage and in the conversation with him, I tried my best not to sound tearful by asking him what is the earliest test date and appeared optimistic about my mistakes. It was beyond heart-breaking, it was obvious disappointment was all over his tone. One couldn’t had asked for a better instructor and it just hurt me so bad to deliver the bad news.
At that point, I just read Mabel message wishing me good luck for my test. SMS is easier, I just need to type out saying that I had failed and wish her luck for her upcoming test too. Mabel called, which then became difficult. She had just finished her own practical lesson and wanted a meeting at the canteen of BBDC. She understood absolutely everything as she had been through the EXACT same thing twice. Despite her comforting words, the feelings became so uncontrollable and intense that I broke down in the canteen. I couldn’t see those instructors, staff and students present as they didn’t concern me. It was just so hard to take in and became too painful for the brief session with Mabel.
WORST STILL, I had booked a motorbike lesson almost immediately afterwards. There was no way I could had attended the motorcycle lesson in such state. Strolled to the motorcycle reporting room with my eyes swollen and obviously in no mood for lesson as all I could think about was my test an hour ago.
Under the hot sun, wearing full protective elbow and knee guards, helmet and gloves, my tears were like an opened tap while riding the motorbike. I knew its hard for anyone to picture including myself because prior to that, the only thing I could imagine was me gleeing throughout the class 2B lesson after a PASS was obtained. I was totally unprepared for a failure. Needless to say, I had failed that subject as how could one pass a student sobbing on a motorbike throughout a 100 minutes lesson? It is like a spoiled icing on a moldy cake. Even covered in sweat after the lesson, it still couldn’t disguise the tears.
With only a few hours to my shift at work, I couldn’t cry whole day at the comfort of my room. I took the next best alternative by locking myself at the toilet but it was so depressing to even THINK about overcoming this lemon, let alone make lemonade. No use struggling to hold back the tears, it would return as a more powerful waterfall.
I had been such a letdown where I couldn’t even telecommute my boyfriend due to him being away in camp. Every minute he didn’t reply my sms, is every minute he wasn’t aware that I had failed. He had thought so highly of me passing, which we had even thought on borrowing his dad car to explore Singapore this weekend to places such as Dempsey Hill, Riders Cafe etc.
Later in the evening, he replied with a bittersweet SMS full of encouragement for my second try (probably 99% bitter and 1% sweet)
I admit it was really nerve-wreaking to have a tester be on the passenger seat monitoring your EVERY movement. In fact during the test itself, I couldn’t even start the engine initially which almost trigger my panic mode. Yes. No exaggeration here, I couldn’t get my vehicle to move after several tries where my sweat couldn’t get any colder as it had never occurred ever before. I ALMOST signaled a SOS that blames the vehicle for being faulty. You could even potentially forget to put on seat belt when moving off. Those are the sort of things that put you on the edge.
Having said that, I’m feeling much better today even those this post was written with many infrequent disruptions of subconscious thoughts on failure and tears. My only goal is to let B’ read this during the coming weekend so that I don’t have to explain anything tearfully. Don’t wanna ruin the short-lived moments we had 
