At the verge


I am writing this for the girl that I am now– unmotivated and extremely worried about the coming days.

I chose to go on this journey alone, and there have been times I have regretted thinking too highly of my capabilities.

For someone like me who was raised thinking crying was for weaklings, crying about something I knew I can’t control anymore felt like defeat. I am so used to having things done my way when fate suddenly decided to rule this out.

I was rendered defenseless.

In this ordeal, I am not alone. I know one too many people who are still thinking of how they are going to make it out alive in such a treacherous stretch of requirements and deadlines to beat.

A lot of us may be thinking where we went wrong, where our plans were reduced to mere predictions. I, for one, thought I’d finish up with this thing earlier on that I had expected, but, merely two days from the deadline, I just started on another aspect–and from there, I acknowledge things could go awry.

I am not ready to fail. I am afraid of it. I have been too cautious all along, trying my best to tread the path that I think is the safest.

I could continue to ask myself what led me to such state, and I could go on forever.

I am worried about the people who are sincerely rooting for me, for those counting on what I could become.

I am worried about not being able to feel as fulfilled as I should.

I am worried I am not giving this my best shot anymore.

I am worried, and it is pushing me to the brink of just giving up.

But,  I hope, from when I can read this again, I can look back at a time I felt helpless, unable to see whether I could accomplish and just get through with my thesis, just like everybody else did before me.

I hope, from when I can read this again, I’d feel better and relieved that I made it through.



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