I Struck Back With Anger
July 10, 2007, 05:37 PM
Anger works. I used anger one time in high school to finally force myself to ask my crush to the prom. I kept tormenting myself by putting off asking her because I was so nervous. It's similar to the same kind of nervousness I sometimes feel when I'm driving and I feel that another car is about to collide into mine. The nervousness that feels like it could kill you with a touch.
So here I was in my English class, trembling and heating up in my seat with my crush two seats in front of me. I fetched my water bottle to drink so I could get some feeling back in my throat and body. Class was about 90 minutes long. And I waited during the entire class period to ask her, but for what? I just extended my agony by 90 minutes. The bell rang, signaling that the period was over. All around me, people started leaving -- including my crush. She walked past me. For a moment, she was right beside me as I was still seated at my desk. Then she was 2 feet away and then 8. I still sat there.
There was a mechanical pencil in my hand that I was flipping around my fingers to try to mitigate my nervousness by distracting me. Stupid thing: its eraser had been eroded away. I hate not having an eraser on my pencils. I hate it. I thought about what else I hate. Or what else I would hate. I would have hated not to even try to ask this girl to our prom. Your hate makes you powerful. I decided to use my hate. That stupid pencil with no eraser. I angrily snapped the pencil with a single hand. Pieces of it flew all around on my desktop. At that moment, I wondered what the hell I was doing screwing around with a pencil. I had something to accomplish!
I hastily gathered up the broken pieces into my pocket and flew out of my desk. The girl of my dreams was even further away from me than before. "Bull!@#$," I thought. "She's not getting away from me." I called out to her and asked to her to wait for me. I briskly walked over to her. We talked and then I asked. As I said her name and began to ask her, I felt what was the beginning of the single most horrifying few moments of my life. Anything would have felt better, be it a gunshot, a knife stab to my throat, or a sledgehammer to my skull. But that did not matter.
I hated the 90 minutes of torture I had just gone through and the past few days of nervousness from the idea of asking her to prom. I wanted to end that crap here and now. I did. SAD told me I could not do it. SAD is wrong. It is always wrong. Anger can help you realize that.
