defeat.



I was holding my breath. I remember that. It wasn't on purpose, but I think I was preparing myself for the inevitable. I broke down my hope so it couldn't be dashed by anyone other than myself. My fingers trembled but I forced them to still. I could feel the disappointment like an anchor tied to my heart but I refused to let it sink., not in front of them. Only after I pushed back the door did I let my eyes well. the dark street was barren and cold but inside me a storm raged. I think I had created this wondrous mock-reality in my head that I fully dreamt would unfold, but now that I've woken up I realize that my air-headed fantasy was foolish and a lost cause. I carefully laid all my eggs in a basket that proved to be an ignorant gamble. And so with my tail between my legs and my bleary eyes a bit swollen , I return to the drawing board.

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