
I know that fate has its own course, and somehow, sometime, it will lead us to that point of no return: success. But is there such a thing as being at the right place at the wrong time when it comes to this life phenomenon?
Just a few days back, I've been rejoicing like there's no tomorrow. That gleeful feeling of triumph over winning the Quidditch Cup is so similar to what I've been experiencing inside. I knew then that I'll be waking up from a terrible nightmare in just a few days...
The dream. That dream. It's so close, yet—just a couple of hours ago—it's so far once again. To be honest, I'm still hoping for the best. God will provide what's best for me. No buts, no ifs, even if I want to. All I know now is that I'm very, very down emotionally but my spirit is still soaring like the Golden Snitch.
Fate is indeed full of surprises, a collective experience of downfalls and joys. Maybe I'm just at the wrong place at the right time? Honestly, I'm convinced that I am.
Not a loser anymore, like the last time, and the time before...
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