Receiving Acceptances from Colleges
I cried. A lot. On a bench near the basketball court at benchasiri park, on the floor beside my closet at 6:00AM on a Sunday morning, at the lobby of my friend’s apartment complex near the playground. It hurt, a lot, to come to terms with the fact that a dream—even though I had just the slightest, tiniest sliver of hope for it—was, as it was now clear, never going to come true, as confirmed by a few words on a screen—one robotic collection of phrases on a skimpy portal, signed off digitally by someone I’ve never met (and never will, now, meet). I let myself, for once, go on that long walk, wait for my mum’s comforting words as my voice cracked over the phone, and take the elevator back up to my friend’s apartment to bake the best cake I had ever baked (you can ask them—it was actually unbelievably delicious). After I let the feeling of grief and self-disappointment sit for as long as it needed, I let it go (and made some some crazy good dessert instead).
I cried. A lot. Solitarily in the bathroom, pouring with sweat on the steps up to the phrom phong BTS platform, in my mum’s embrace. Someone listened, someone heard, someone cared…and, agh, I did something right! I had never sighed so hard in relief, arrested by the grin I found my face showing off to the world, and chuckled out of so much simultaneous shock and pure joy. I let myself, for once, devour the entire thing of waffles with strawberries at ROAST, fall into the arms of celebration and mutual happiness of my friends, and acknowledge that there is a place for me after all, somewhere.
Hearing back can be terrifying, exhilarating. But whatever the result, as cheesy as it sounds, you are one step closer to wherever you’re meant to be. The moments—emotional, wonderful, heartbreaking—will come and go. The sun will still rise tomorrow, good or bad, easy or hard. So keep your head up.