去年的年末总结，我写，“My 2016 was all about the unimaginable, yet it was what I had truly gone through.”
2016对于我来说是翻天覆地的一年。2017，对比来讲，看起来似乎挺平淡。
一切都归于正轨，我好像也对每次五千公里的长途飞行习以为常。只是两年里我在进行不同的挣扎，第一年是还没断奶的小鸟初次离巢，第二年是飞到半空中的小鸟挣扎着向南方迁徙。
一月份我曾多次进行self-therapy，因为我知道，今年不会像去年的后半段那样轻松自在了。也许以后回想起来会好笑吧，毕竟上山的路总是越走越险。但我的确对中四的一年抱着太大太大的期望，于是这满到溢出来的期望就慢慢凝成了带着激动的恐惧。
Term 1和 Term 2总体来说是安稳度过的，without tangible threats materializing. 除了mid-year化学的fiasco把我打了个措手不及，但当时的我也知道，只是现在看得更清楚，波动是必然的，只是当时我过度绷紧的神经好像已经把这些真实的小细节给忽略了，于是当它们蹦到我眼前时，才会这么吃惊。
Term 3，铺天盖地的Oral Practice，然而我并没有觉得自己达到了英文表达的巅峰。只是觉得很惊奇，当时是怎么在last chem/english prelim, Bio Olympiad 和 English Oral的三重混乱之中安稳度过的。我想我大概不会忘记XYZ那一堆一堆的口试材料，不会忘记在我破罐子破摔时她们给我的鼓励，不会忘记考完口试大家都feel like shit，却还是告诉我You’ll impress the examiner.虽然我最后也feel like shit, if not worse than that. Term 3好像那是我哭的最频繁的一段时间，卫生间的小隔间，关灯后的被窝里，有的时候莫名其妙想起什么眼眶就开始酸胀。挺庆幸，自己在宿舍没像去找Mr Aiman一样把持不住当场泪奔出来。
这毕竟是我自己的事啊，然后九月份咩的到来似乎又温柔地把一切都归回正轨。在Somerset Bencoolen拿到回家机票的那个下午，我忽然觉得非常安心，即使还没拿到Prelim 2的成绩，即使还有不知会如何的两个月，也觉得，好像看到了这条隧道的尽头，看见了洒进来的日光。
Term 4，出乎意料的平淡。以为会痛苦异常的两周准备，也就在满满的schedule中过去了。开始考试的第一科E-Math Paper 1把我紧张的不行，还在担心这种心态明天英语可怎么考呀。英语也算是稀里糊涂地考完了吧，发现审错题懊恼了一晚上，但是到第二周开始接二连三的出问题之后就麻木了。我觉得考O-Level的自己像是拿着一个放大镜没完没了地审视着自己在考场上坐着的那一两个小时，能不看出问题？考完Geog那天晚上multiple whammy的猛烈攻击反而让我释然，好像是一锅煮沸腾的开水已经溢出了大半杯：来啊，快活啊，你再气气我，看我能不能爆炸。
现在想想那个晚上，有点难过，但更多的是觉得搞笑，气到头了，怎么好像一下子就都不在意了，而且也不是破罐子破摔，有一种“众人皆醉我独醒”的大彻大悟。
然后就这么接着稀里糊涂地过了hell week，过了等待中华文学的空窗周，过了考完中华文学的解放前夕，然后，Bio MCQ的主考官拿着麦克说“OK Time’s up. Stop writing.”
我盯着大屏幕上的“17 November 2017”，不想哭也不想笑，没有激动，没有涕泗横流，没有热泪盈眶，没有怅然若失，就是，“哦。考完了。”
考完了。想不起来那天是和谁一起回的家，好像是一贯欢脱加吐槽的Jade，路过她给我安利的那家饮品店我还想去买，结果没开门，伤心了几分钟。
考完了。回去收拾箱子，把一摞书搬给太学妹，出去取公交卡，吃2017在坡的最后一顿hawker centre，买和两年前一样的cupcake，还有，扔书。
我站在recycle corner堆成山的废纸前面，小心翼翼地把我的教科书放在桌子上。
“Don’t you want to throw them away?”
打酱油的Jade兴致勃勃地提议。
我想了想，尝试着抓起一本练习册，抡圆了胳膊后松开手，望着它单薄的身躯在空中划过一道歪歪扭扭的抛物线，砰一声落在大垃圾桶里，扬起纷纷扬扬的灰尘。
“It’s so sad.”我说。
“No you should feel happy.”
“I’ve been using them for two years and now I’m throwing them away.”
“Now they are useless.”
于是，我一本接一本地扔书，直到我低头，看见空空如也的小推车。我没有什么可以扔的了。我的书也没了，力气也没了，两年多少个日日夜夜的写写画画，收拾了一周后就收的收，扔的扔，归置一下，也什么都没了。书架空了，床脚两摞书没有了，床底的一排书消失了，什么都没了。
然后我脑海里忽然蹦出唐山大地震里徐帆的话：没了，才知道啥叫没了。伴随着唐山腔，涌上一种不合时宜的喜感。我没笑出来，嗓子里一阵干涩，说不出来话。
搬箱子的时候，小推车的轮子把我的脚趾盖撞破了，我却浑然不知。拖着流血的脚趾，我看着一半空荡、一半狼藉的，住了两年的宿舍，对自己说，“I’m gonna be a man for now.”
五点十五，抹上粉底眼线唇膏，穿上礼服裙高跟鞋，却没有想象中那么激动了。期盼了很久很久的毕业舞会,羡慕了很久很久的学姐们光彩照人的合影，也只是看起来很美而已。
我想，我一直等的只是交最后一科卷子的那一瞬间，等那一瞬间的放下和释然，等扔书时那种带着不舍的畅快，等看到房间清空时心里空落落的欣慰，等那一刻我可以清楚地看到，I have given it all that I have.
走之前，我看到电脑里自己在Pei DSA成功那天，写给她却从未发出的信。我抱着电脑，看着宿舍边上那条洒满落叶的林荫小道，看着在夕阳下闪着粼粼微光的Kallang River。一整天下来，只是在那么一瞬间，有点想哭。
是挺难过，却也挺骄傲的想哭，为她骄傲，也为我自己骄傲。不管是怎么样，就这么过来了，因为这件事让我慢慢学着不再那么幼稚的依赖别人，慢慢学着不焦虑kiasu的东瞅细看，慢慢学着走自己觉得对的路。
这封信，她也许不会看到。我也不知道我是否希望她看到。与其说是写给她，不如说是写给我自己。虽然我总是不愿在结果明了之前妄下结论，虽然我不知道明年的我还能不能像今天说的这样“你记得也好/最好你忘掉”一样豁达，虽然，我不能假定未来，也不敢假定未来。
只是我知道这个2017，有她，有Yinuo, 有B0510，更有我自己，起码今天的我回想起来，觉得很满足。
这是在一群人的成长中，我的转变。摔碎了的玻璃心，被剥下来的粘人虫，以后都再不会有了。
2018，继续野蛮地生长。
2017，踩碎玻璃心
Dear Penny,
I believe today would be a day to remember for you, and I am really heartened by it. I feel immensely happy for you, for all your efforts that have not come to nought. I have witnessed it all, or maybe you did hide it well, but I saw so much of your stress and anxieties, your uncertainties and fears, those that are observable, or carefully disguised, or diligently hidden. Erhu classes, Chemistry Olympiad, Biology Olympiad, you have persevered through them and managed to welcome all your commitments. Definitely, I know that this piece of good news today does not befall upon you by chance. You deserve it, and you always do.
The only thing is, I have yet learned to accept myself, and you have already (involuntarily?) become an essential part of my life. The problem with doing everything conscientiously is that you cannot simply let go of any sign of imperfection. I know that many a time I have expected too much, when I was not paying the effort that is commensurate with what I wanted - I have always taken a lot of things for granted. I have always prioritized one thing over another, and it might turn out to be a dangerous bet. We all are afraid to admit our ambitions, because we are all so vain deep inside. Our achievements are never just for ourselves, and I have already realized that while I was applying for the scholarship. I mean, this vanity may push us very far, but it can be confusing, exhausting, and blinding. I have yet to learn to strike a balance, and to feed myself a healthy dose of ambition.
But I’m certain that what I am pursuing today is not a mirage. It is something concrete that I know clearly I want, and math tells me there is indeed a high probability that i will be able to clinch it. The only concern is that, I need to learn to be patient and keep my cool. This is a suspended agony, and my ability to actually divert this possibility to something else makes it all the more grueling. I hope you can understand, and empathize with me. Please give me more time to clarify, understand, and accept everything that is happening at such a dramatically fast pace.
This letter may never find you, but it doesn’t matter; we need some time to agonize over something, to feel a bit uncomfortable and be laid down, so that we can struggle and get up and stand tall even more. Maybe this is the time for me to break my shell from inside.
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