Chapter Thirty-Six: I Failed My Driving Test And Then I Cried (~jinghan)

Feeling pretty dandy and confident after my last driving lesson before my drive test I come home from lunch with a friend to do some work into the evening. I’m about to turn off my computer before going to bed when I notice that my ex-boyfriend is online and that it’s been a month since I’ve asked him how he is.

It’s funny how a small inconsequential choice you make during one day can change everything.

So I say hi and we talk small things and I tell him about my driving test tomorrow and he tells me to “have fun”. Not “good luck” just “have fun”. At the time I thought it was sweet and a good non-cliche, but as I’m going to bed I recall the conversation and can’t help thinking about how cautious I feel about talking to him and how it had never occurred to me that he probably feels the same because of all the things that have been said in a moment of bitterness and hurt pride.

Now I’m thinking about it, and the guilt is seeping in, and I’m composing an apology in my head, and before I know it I’m thumbing it into my phone and clicking send.

I don’t expect a reply. My phone beeps. “It’ll take time. Relax.”

I read it again. It’s the nicest most honest thing that’s been said between us for a while and it feels like the wariness is finally acknowledged, not gone, but a step closer to something more like friendly apathy.

Now I could have stopped myself before I talked to my ex-boyfriend, I could have stopped myself before I started feeling guilty, or before I sent that text and I could have stopped myself again now. But already I was thinking about the day before my grandma’s funeral. How scared and alone I had been and how it had been unfortunate that my then boyfriend was busy and not yet connected up to the internet.

Maybe the grief had been there like a dark silent shadow all along, in the form of some great sadness I wasn’t prepared to admit to. I was unfair to him and other people because something they had done had reminded me of, made me more alone or added to the stress of the grief – and I didn’t know it was grief that made me feel that way, I thought that maybe they were being bad people.

It turns out they were just being human.

I could have suppressed the tears, maybe, but some things just need to be cried out. Some people are ashamed of crying. Maybe I was too. But I was never one of those people who could stop tears once the sadness had taken root. So I gave up being ashamed of it.

When I woke up my eyes were just a bit puffy and my mind a bit fuzzy. I splash cold water on my face and hope for the best.

During the driving test I can sense my teacher smiling as I do a perfect reverse park. I resist from smiling back. But as I’m pulling away from the first part of the test the examiner says, “Please pull over at the curb when it’s safe.” And I know exactly why. I went over 40 in a marked 40 zone.

“Ah well that’s life.” I think to myself as we make our way back to the testing centre. But it reminds me too much of everything that was going through my mind the night before. And by the time we get back and the examiner is saying to me, “Look, who knows what would have happened if we hadn’t stopped the test, but from what I saw you driving was really good.” By the time he says this it’s all too much.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally chill about failing. In fact I’m looking forward to telling my friend who contemptuously said to me “god. jinghan. I fail at life. do you EVER fail anything?” And it’s not like I have nothing to show for it, because I’m pretty proud of how much my driving improved and how confident I am now (if you don’t mind my saying so).

So, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t cry about that.

I failed my driving test and I cried because my grandma died six months ago.

Don’t tell anyone I said so, but sometimes I hate being human.

post script: I’m going to make cake now.