What if You Never Get a Life Partner?

The ring belled. Everyone gathered in the school gym.

Aaron was excited. You know, the kind of dude that LIVES and BREATHES for sport. If you asked him, “What’s your favorite subject?”, he’d reply: “PE class” without a hint of sarcasm.

Then you have Sandra and 75% of the class. The ones who are okay with sports. If you asked them, “What’s your favorite subject?”, they’d reply: “Uh…PE class. I guess.” But only because the other courses suck.

And finally, there’s you.

Well, you’re not an Olympian. You could do better. You could be faster, stronger, more flexible. But that’s not the point.

You hated PE class for another reason.

That’s when Mr. Whistlecap appeared out of nowhere with a badminton racket.

The gym teacher appears with a badminton racket. In front of a whiteboard, and speaking “Okay kiddos”, to his students who are all gathered up.

Sounds of excitement were spread across the room. Someone uttered: “I knew it!” And you thought: “Oh well…”

Badminton was nice. You liked it better than gymnastics and sprint running.

But what the teacher was going to say afterwards, you didn’t like it much:

Teacher says: “You’ll be pairing up.”

Well, well, well…

You tried doing the maths:

Boxface is trying to calculate the number of students and dividing them by two. Conclusion: One student has to be left out.

While you were overthinking…People were forming couples.

“Hey dude, let’s team up”, said Roberto to Aaron.

“YOU are my partner”, exclaimed Tom to Sandra while running to her.

Like magic, everyone gathered in two.

People are gathered in two, and there’s only one person left: You.

Friends with friends. Lovers with lovers. Strangers with strangers, who’ll eventually become friends.

And there you remained like a statue.

You asked no one, and no one asked you.

Before you even had time to ponder on such pathetic tragedy, the teacher shouted:

“Okay kiddos, let’s line up! Take a racket and a shuttlecock.”

Kids are lining up to take the rackets and the shuttlecocks.

Behind the line, you heard people say: “So glad we’re together!”.

Well, you were so glad for these 45 minutes to end, so you could return home and cry on your ridiculous existence.

But you still took a racket and a shuttlecock.

Boxface with a racket and a badminton shuttle. Sad look.

As you were wandering around the gym, your classmates were already playing. They were having the time of their lives.

Kids are playing badminton, while Boxface is walking around.

Maybe you could reach out to a team. “Hey, can I join you?” But badminton is a game of two. Or four. So you’d be a burden.

And heck, you were no one’s first choice anyways.

Maybe you could go to the teacher and say: “Umm…Mr. Whistlecap, I don’t have a partner. What do I do?”

But you were NOT a victim. And you didn’t want to appear like one.

If you were going to attract that look of pity from Mr. Whistlecap, or from any of his students, then you’d rather not ask anything at all.

Besides, Mr. Whistlecap was too busy at the moment. He was watching Aaron and Roberto kill the game.

Teacher says: “Good Game” while watching his students play badminton.

Well, it can’t be helped.

So you went to a corner of the gymnasium, and you played by yourself.

Boxface plays alone.

Boxface taps the badminton racket.

It felt absurd.

Still, you continued. Up and down. Down and up. A ravenous anger started to fill your lungs, as you threw the shuttle higher and higher into the air.

Boxface plays but feels angry.

“There must be something wrong with me”, you thought.

Now, you were so focused on the shuttle. Trying to let go of your teenage angst, being invisible, and feeling like society’s greatest misfit.

But then, something happened.

The shuttle went through the roof.

Then it rose into the sky.

Like a rocket, it flew higher…

And higher…

At the gym, nobody seemed to notice.

Your classmates kept playing without batting an eye.

And you kept looking at the hole in the roof, wondering where the shuttle went.

Meanwhile, the shuttle was still flying into the galaxy.

Then it stopped.

A fluorescent quote emerged. You could not see it, but you could feel it in your soul.

Badminton shuttle writes: “You are OK.”

Class was over.

Like the other kids, you put your badminton racket away, changed clothes in the locker room, and went outside.

Walking outside the gym.

Maybe someone did receive your shuttle.

They could be in your city, or they could be on the other side of the world. You’ll just have to wait. Who knows, maybe they’ll return it back to you in a few years?

Your badminton partner. Forever.

You’d never be alone. You’d finally feel special, like you’re a beloved human, just like everyone else.

“I am OK. I am OK. I am OK…” you repeated to yourself in a mantra style.

There is still hope.