I am about to accept defeat. There is no two ways about it; fate has given me a good drubbing this time. For the past two years, I have toiled, strived and prayed towards this goal yet this very feat is not forthcoming. I know I did not put in my best at first but I did my time and redeemed myself - all that counts for nothing. I have been super optimistic about it for a long time; it is finally time for me to see things the way they are - I have failed this time.

        Is it hard to admit failure? Yes, it is. It should be. Nevertheless, it is not the fiasco that bothers me. The mistakes do. It is baffling to realize that I did this to myself. I had the chance and blew it. I made mistakes. Although I made efforts to compensate for my slip-ups, the fact remains that I made mistakes. I failed.

        Is my world crashing? No, it is just changing. Everything is beginning to look different. Everything, that I thought would be, isn't. Prospects, expectations, the future - they all cast long shadows of uncertainty. That is what I get for putting all my eggs in one basket. My wishful thinking failed me.

        What happens now? No idea. No idea, yet. I usually pride myself in my ability to rapidly figure out a plan B whenever and however the need arises. Right now, a fallback is not foreseeable. Even if it was, it definitely would not appeal to me. I probably should have made a backup plan. I failed to do that too.

        I am not sad. This is not the sound of depression or self-pity. This is a mixture of reflective anger and premature capitulation. It is the voice of some dude staring at failure in the face.

        I accept my defeat.

P.S: Meiosis - I picked, wore and stepped out with the wrong underwear today.