When you’ve messed up. No, really messed up. Dashed-your-hopes-and-dreams, potentially-jeopardised-your-relationship, ruined-your-future kind of messed up?
Well, you cry for sure. Ideally not in the middle of the corridor, but sometimes it can’t be helped. And then you get put in offices with directors and deputy directors and teachers, and talked about over your own head. And then you start to listen to what people are saying, and calm down a bit.
And then you walk away and think about it, and talk to your boyfriend, and make a promise.
And then you spend an evening (and a morning) together, and then you call your best friend who says you’ve been screwed over and they should all go to hell. And then you call your other best friend, who tells you to stop being an idiot and pull yourself together.
And then you eat a lot of chocolate and decide to kick some examboard ass, and spend a few days working on a project you enjoy and excel in. And in the meantime, you do some decorating and find a load of old photo frames to cover your walls with. Happy smiley pictures which remind you that life isn’t controlled by Edexcel, nor Cambridge, nor any of the idiots that make you believe that.
And then you find yourself, three days later, realising that you haven’t really messed up. Most of your hopes and dreams aren’t dashed. Your relationship isn’t jeopardised. And your future most certainly isn’t ruined.
Sure, you have to retake Music to get an A. That’s a bummer. That, you can be gutted about. But you’ll get there. And sure, you were told you were on an A in French, when actually you got a C. But you’re dropping French.
And you got an A where it was important. And there’s your EPQ to come. And no, you aren’t your brainbox “5 As and counting” boyfriend. But at least you don’t have to worry about an Oxbridge interview anymore.
You finally get round to buying your birthday present, and download Photoshop, and you treat yourself to a Flickr Pro Account while you’re at it. You read some more of your book. And you know that Yeah, next year’s going to be tough. But you’ll get there. So you stick some music on loud; a song you don’t really want to listen to because it reminds you of how things should have been. But you sing along with the lyrics anyway, because it always cheers you up, and come next year, you’re darn well going to have it on full volume.
Don't think it won't happen, just because it hasn't happened yet.