One letter.

I tell myself this as I look at the screen, my mind racing,

my fate being decided on the other end.

One letter.

I tell myself it’s no big deal, I’ll be fine either way it goes.

Just one letter.

As I wait, I think about what’s going to happen if it isn’t

what they want.

Teachers, coaches, family, friends,

“Eligibility first, mental stability second.”

One stupid letter.

I’m trying not to think that seeing

the letter before H and just after E

means $125 down the drain

and disappointment from all sides.

I try not to think of the looks on their faces

when I say “I failed”

and I try not to think of my coach as she has to tell

me, at the height of my third season,

That I can’t move on because I didn’t try hard enough.

It’s just one letter,

I think, instead of thinking about my teacher

and how he’ll believe I’m wasted effort

because I couldn’t pass one test,

and I try not to think of my friends and how

One damn letter

could finally show them that I’m as dense as

they think I am.

I think about telling my Dad I failed

and him trying to contain himself, even though

I know he’s thinking about

everywhere he went wrong.

All This stress over a single letter.

Karma comes back for me

after all the times I said

“I think I did great”

and I did. But one year later,

I never imagined I’d be

staring at a screen,

saying “I know” to everyone who’s waiting

just as much as I am, telling me

I have to do better or

my year will end.
All over one stupid letter.