The Result, The Breakdown & A Tiny Ray of Hope 🌘📖

What a tragic little love story I have—with myself.

Last night, I went to sleep at 2 AM, tangled in anxiety and endless “what ifs” about my result. I couldn’t bring myself to open it. My nerves were winning, and courage was nowhere in sight.

At 6 AM sharp, my mom decided she’d had enough of my suspense drama and shook me awake—headache and all. She demanded I check the result. And so, barely conscious, I did.

And here’s the twist—it wasn’t bad.

I mean, it was way better than my first attempt. But… still not enough. Not good enough to break open the doors of the colleges I dreamt of. I didn’t cry, but I wanted to. So badly. The ache in my chest? That was real.

But here’s the part I’ve learned the hard way:  

At the end of the day, you just have to accept yourself and where you are.  

That’s how growth begins, I guess.

I checked my chances for college. Nada. That means: more entrance exams. More grind. More sleepless nights. But it’s okay. I’m still here, still standing, and still trying.

I started studying again, although my brain wasn’t exactly cooperating. Concentration? What’s that? I gave up and told myself: “Tomorrow will be better.” (Manifesting it, okay?)

I took a nap in the evening—one of those slightly sad naps where time passes too quickly. Later, to freshen up my mood, I watched 30 minutes of my series (self-care, alright?).

And then… I picked up a book I’ve been hearing about for ages—Atomic Habits. Just started it, and I already feel it’s going to change something in me. If you’re looking for a sign to start a new book, this is it.

To close off the day, I wrote more of my novel—it’s the one thing that always keeps me sane—and now, I’m heading to sleep.

Tomorrow is a new shot at everything.  

Until then, signing off. Good night. 🌙💬