what failure feels like

It has been a long time since I wrote on my blog. I was a little distracted by everything that had been happening. But here I am, at 4 a.m., in my bed where I should have slept 5 hours ago. Guess there is no running away from using my blog as my notes app. 

I wish I knew how failure feels. I wish I didn’t feel like I could win and achieve anything, but then I realized everything might not go according to plan this time. I wish I realized I might not be able to live in the apartment I will be living in three years from now, name my children with the names I decided on 5 years ago, and drive the car I dreamed of 7 years ago. Are you telling me that I might not even exist 3 weeks later, that I might not be able to eat the pancakes I was planning to eat in the morning, or that I will not be able to complete my project on time but for other reasons? That feels impossible. It doesn’t sit right with me. I guess that is what's wrong with me. I do not believe that all of my plans might not go as planned. 

But what if it doesn’t go as planned, god forbid? What if all my plans fall apart, and when I look back, i say, “wow, did i really think i would be at that point by now?” I know that at that poin,t I will face the ugly truth: nothing is under control. As a control freak, this freaks me out. As an organized person, I am terrified. I plan my hours, days, weeks, months, and life. I have a list of baby names, saved real estate videos of apartments in London, and a bookmark on a website named “Tips for job interviews.” Are all these going to go to waste? Am I fooling myself into believing that everything will eventually be alright? Am I that pathetic to believe that at the end of the day, I will be hugging my dad with teary eyes and him stroking my hair, telling me that I will figure out a way?

I am not bragging when I say that I have never lost anything in my lifetime. I am serious. As far as I recall, I have never left a contest empty-handed, fallen behind, or failed an exam. It is not because I am intelligent or anything else; it’s just how things got their way. For instance, one of the worst grades I have ever received was a 63, which I swear would be a 40. I got into my current high school while I was on the waitlist, as the 203rd. I received the high achiever diploma with 0.2 points in my prep year, not ending my streak for 9 years. I got into my school’s MUN club and didn’t get kicked, even though every pop quiz was empty. I guess life does figure itself out, or one day, my luck streak will end…