Blogpost to self

In 24 hours I get rejected from the college of my dreams.

It's not like I never knew this was going to happen, but I am a hopeless romantic when it comes to love college applications. So when the final week leading to decisions dawned, I was devastated. I binge-watched, binge-ate, binge-everything-unhealthy. In case you're wondering how I know I'm rejected, it's because I was supposed to get a call for an interview (which all successful applicants do at the latest till a week before the decision is out) but I didn't. So, yeah.

Even as I write this I can't help but think about the remote possibility that it's actually not a rejection, but that is precisely what my advice to my very-near-future-self is: don't harp on the microscopic chance, it will only amplify the heartbreak if when it does come. This was just my Early Decision college. I have almost twenty days to apply to other top-notch colleges across the United States. I feel like I've spent too much time thinking about it. There's Princeton and Yale and Dartmouth and Duke, among many, many others. And maybe one of them needs an applicant who does not play three musical instruments or speaks six foreign languages. Meh, we'll see. But for now, it's being real, not hopeful.

There's only so much one can do to chase one's dreams. I did my best. And yes, maybe attending a big-shot school in Delhi or Mumbai could've made a difference, and maybe I could've been filthy rich and not required financial aid, but as great as it is to think about could-haves, I want myself to know I wouldn't change a thing about myself, because I have no earthly idea what that would be like. There's wisdom in popular sayings (as cringy as they might be) and one such saying is we should all try to be happy with who we are and make the best out of situations. And that's what I'll do.