I knew that Juilliard was going to reject me but some small part of me still pretended that they wouldn’t. And it hurts. It hurts more than I expected. I knew seeing the words in black and white would cut me.
There was no reason why. Just a thanks for applying, hope to see you next year when we ask you to pay another $60 to fail.
I don’t even have the heart tonight to keep working. I’ve had a pint of ice cream on the table for like, 30 minutes that I can’t even eat.
It’s not the end of anything except a dream that I pushed on myself, worked hard for and thought about every god damn day since before Thanksgiving, but it still hurts like hell. It was my chance. After a year of straight rejections and people saying just keep going, someone will say yes- nobody has. Everyone’s a fuckin liar.
And I find it to be a lot to comprehend this night. I can’t stop crying. My cheeks feel like they’re buzzing. My skull aches with tension. It’s still daylight out so I can’t go to bed despite my every urge to wallow and hide back in a fantasy.
I write to help people, to make people laugh, to make myself laugh. I write because I like it. And because it’s one of the only things people said I was good at doing(which is important and really sticks when you grew up in a house with a mom who judged you for your grades, you appearance, your friends, your whole being, really).
I just… can’t fathom being the failure my mom said I would be. Like, I’m pissed about that. And yes, I know, keep going, just keep swimming, blah blah but who gives a fuck? I’m fuckin dizzy.