I had my whole life planned out. As graduation was drawing nearer, I could almost taste my dreams and feel my life’s adventure. I pictured flying on my own wings, yet high school just couldn’t end too soon. I wanted to suffocate no more in the little city I was living in. I was just days away from finally breaking free. It was all going to be so perfect.

Then one day I received a mail and everything changed. No, it wasn’t a letter about Hitler coming back to life just so he could kill me, nor was it about all the Starbucks outlets shutting down. It was something much, much worse. I didn’t get accepted to the college I had applied for. So much for the wishful thought of walking side by side with my intelligent cousins in the halls of that esteemed university.

The moment I saw the phrase “We regret to inform you,” I really didn’t need to read the rest of the letter. My whole body suddenly turned into stone. It felt so heavy that I could barely stand. I wanted to evaporate into thin air and just stop existing right then and there. To say that it felt like my heart was being chopped into a million microscopic pieces would be an understatement. I had been pushed down from Cloud 9 without any warning.

Late at night when I was alone, I cried. I avoided people who tried to comfort me and tell me everything was going to be OK. Nothing was going to be OK! I hated the way they presumed to understand the situation. I knew they never would. It wasn’t their dreams that were crushed, it was mine, just mine and I had the right to be selfish with my pain. My solitude belonged to me, the last consolation I had been given. And I wasn’t playing the part of a drama queen, it was real and it hurt big time.

Then as if all the aches of rejection weren’t enough, the letter also came with a free supply of shame. I knew I had to tell my dirty little secret at some point, but I didn’t know how to swallow my pride. Did anybody ever write a manual about this? Something titled “Surviving Extreme Depression Due To College Rejection 101” would have come in handy.

What made it even harder to deal with was that I had a cousin who applied for admission to the same school. We are of the same age and we even have almost the same name. I could just wish we had the same exam results too because he got admitted.

That was not really a shocker. I knew he deserved it. He studied all summer long while I partied on the beach and soaked up the sun.

When the exam results came out in the Net, my parents saw his name and they couldn’t find mine anywhere. Alas, my not-so-little dirty secret was revealed and the I-told-you-so’s started. Good thing I prepared my ears to endure all the things they had to say for weeks, even months.

I arrived in the depression stage of self-pity and anger. Since I knew I wasn’t going to be in a creative writing course, I swore that I would never touch a pen and paper again. Settling for what’s merely there is what I should start doing, I told myself, and let’s forget about my thirst for more. It was a route that was easy to follow and I could be certain it would not lead me anywhere near disappointment.

My time was consumed blaming myself for ever dreaming fantastic dreams. I even wondered how I ever thought that I was good enough.

Then it hit me: All this bitterness was doing me no good. In fact, it was slowly destroying me. I remembered the saying, “When life throws you lemons, make lemonade.” It’s just another simple advice, but I never realized the truth and wisdom packed in it until I was actually down in the dumps.

So I picked myself up and brushed off my bruises. But while that sounds easy, it sure wasn’t. I had to prove to myself how wrong the university was in not accepting me. That meant I had to work double time to achieve excellence. For a girl who would rather play soccer than attend remedial classes in physics, that was going to be very difficult to manage.

But here I am now, a sophomore student and still a budding writer. I’m no longer the angst-ridden failure I was barely two years ago, just the fallen cloud rider who knows better. I have learned that there are reasons why we don’t always get what we want. Perhaps that school didn’t accept me because I really was not good enough, but I believe I will be. The rejection gave me the motivation to keep honing my craft.

Accepting the fact that I am still a young traveler on a journey felt like swallowing dry a big and bitter pill. Sometimes it feels so nice to pretend that I am in control of everything. It is sweet but it is not the reality. The truth is that I’m only in control of myself. Bad things will keep happening as surely as mornings come. But the decision is mine to make whether or not to let such setbacks and disappointments kill my dreams and passions. Hey life, keep those lemons coming! I can make a fortune selling lemonade.

Since I started college, I have been on a roller-coaster ride. I cannot say it has been all smiles for me, but it sure has not been too bad at all. Sure, I did not end up in my perfect world, but I ended up in a real world. And I think it is more worth living.

Yes, we don’t always get what we wish for, but we are given something better!

Xyla Mercedita E. Gualberto, 18, is a sophomore Development Communication student at Xavier University, Ateneo de Cagayan.