Math Against Me: The Weight of a Test

I hold in my hands the sheet printed by the teacher, which had passed through my hands temporarily about two weeks ago. Filled with blue and red pen marks, so many red lines, it corresponds to my Math test, which I had been impatiently waiting for. I remember my studying: I would wake up early to study, the tutoring sessions offered me new exercises to solve, and even though I was not motivated, I did them seriously.

During the test, my light pencil slided over the paper, decorating it, but diminishing its value. The tip hit an obstacle that seemed like a tiny crumb and broke. I sharpened it with the sharpener, but it broke again. I thought about switching pencils, the other one I had fit in the palm of my hand. That one wasn’t sharpened either.

I pulled the trigger of unease, lost focus, but I didn’t give in. Once sharpened again, it didn’t break anymore. I took a deep breath and continued. I searched for impossible points in every question, connected Math with the few philosophies I understood. I hoped, at the very least, for a passing grade, which would be enough to finally leave tutoring behind.

That didn’t happen. All my efforts were in vain. I gave everything I had, gave up playing, sweated in the month of January, turned diamonds to dust, dug tunnels just to see the light on the other side, counted all the stars, carried the weight of the universe in my soul, but my emotions continued to be the obstacle to reason.

Solving an equation is finding the truth, and for some reason, which certainly isn’t reason—I cannot find it. Is there a better way to tell someone they are worthless than by not appreciating their efforts?

I feel that Math is my archenemy, the teacher its subject and my enemy since that day in November. I am just a fourteen-year-old boy. Why do they make me feel stupid and useless, not just as a student, but as a person?

There is something unreachable for me, something luck will never offer me. My dream of becoming an astronaut and landing on the great light of the night seems like something from the past; being part of a team of engineers and researchers and building something that has never been built will not be my future either.

I don’t have enough strength to fulfill my small desires

...how could I accomplish something as monumental as a dream?