Libraries filled with school books, my brand new notebooks filled with outlines for every lesson, blue pens that are enough for me to write the history of the whole humanity and I still didn’t manage to get into the University I was dreaming of. Never- ending lessons, quizzes, tests, assignments but still I did not succeed. All these nights that I ended up sleeping for only 3 hours in order to finish up, all the: “Sorry I will have to cancel for today” that I told my friends, all the times that I chose a coffee over a meal, were simply not enough for me to accomplish my goal. And as if that wasn’t enough, everybody was texting me: “Good job honey! You have entered a pretty good University!” What am I supposed to do when the “pretty good” University is nowhere near the one that I was hoping for? My teachers keep calling to congratulate me and to wish me good on this new journey of mine, while I can’t stop thinking what could I have done so wrong so as to fail. I turn around and look at Mum, who is smiling kindly and rubs my back gently to comfort me. However, I know that she is trying her best to hide away her disappointment. Dad went to our local market to get a cake, so that we could celebrate my “success”. “Of course we have to celebrate!” he says while I am trying to explain that there isn’t something to celebrate for. “You had the courage that it takes to go there and take these exams, you weren’t afraid to fail, that sounds like something worthy of celebrating to me!” And even though I didn’t manage to put it into words I thought: I wasn’t expecting to fail Dad, and now I did. And whilst this situation, I realize that I don’t want to give up. I refuse to hand over, to these 12 hours of my exam, the power to determine not only my mood but most importantly the rest of my life. Besides, the exams were nothing more than a ticket to the train that can get me to the University of my dreams. I may have missed the first one, but I will make sure to catch the next one…
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