The Controversatory


I was confident. I was passionate. I had a vision.

I'd never felt that way before; so, I decided to be ambitious.

And I'm sitting here wondering how much of an idiot I am.

Because I probably am: ambition doesn't mean achievement. At some point, I’m going to have to accept the fact I've failed.

And failure is what scares me the most. Everyone around me is going to know. Everyone's going to ask me what happened. And it's not a question I want to answer, because the fact is I just wasn’t good enough.

The shame is overwhelming. I’m embarrassed for even trying.

But I look back at where I was before, and I don't think I would have been better off if I'd stayed the course. I was in a bad place, and had been scraping rock bottom for a while. Maybe that's what gave me the push to be ambitious. At the time, it seemed there was nowhere to go but up. For a while, things were the best they've been.

But now, I'm afraid of slipping back down. I'm afraid everything is going to fall apart, when it finally felt like it was getting better. I'm afraid of what is coming next.

And I don’t know if that fear is going to drive me or crush me.

Is there hope? Maybe. Maybes are all there are right now.

Maybes were all there ever were.