No one ever said how much your toes will tingle as you stand on tiptoes, reaching for those stars just out of range. Or that the brighter it shines, the more terrifying the stretch. The fear of falling, and failing, seems to grow proportionally with the aching desire you carry for that particular star.
I’m afraid to try, and yet I want it too much not to try. Going off my track record, I’ll probably send it in anyway–overdue, of course, after procrastinating several days with crippling fear. But not this time. I’m determined. All it costs is a large section of time, a generous portion of hurt rejection, and losing a good amount of pride. Watch me fall. This time, I will do so splendidly.