defeat.

The bitter pill that comes with not winning had a surprisingly mild after taste. Perhaps it is the tars I saw on my teammate who missed. Perhaps I have learnt to take defeats in my stride. Or perhaps I do not hold the winning is as high regard as before.
Half the time my mind was elsewhere; albeit my focus was always true at the shooting line.

I really wonder whats going on now, what to do, and where to move from this point. I really really want her back. My days of reflection has taught me many things, and all these showed how imperfect I was. I will change. If only she'd let me try again. A chance to share her life again, yet this time respecting her individuality and need for own time and space.
Would not mind acting silly in front of everyone, if only I can make her smile. Would not mind pleading or begging, if either of it brings her back. Somehow, words uttered a week ago in a fit of impulse is all hazy and unclear. How could I have agreed to hold my peace? How could I? Stupid me.

When I was defeated, the only person I first thought of to tell was her. Did not matter she prob dun really care. I just feel this need to tell her. She'd prob think it foolish of me, to cling onto what was no more. But I am a fool first, to have fallen in love.

I am still hoping for new shoots after the fire, springflowers after the rain. From the ashes perhaps something will rise again. Weeks, months, maybe years. Waiting.

My angel. My heart still cries out for her. If only she knew. If only she still cares.