There were 40 questions.
At least 3, I got wrong.
3 times I know I failed.
3 times I let myself down.
7.5% is already gone and lost,
Dare I see the final score?
1, I was foolish, brazen in my choice.
2, I second-guessed, ignored my inner voice.
3, I was lost.
3, I forgot.
The definitions meant nothing,
The definitions escaped me.
I panicked,
Then I picked.
And I know full-well I picked wrong.
Now it plagues me, all these numbers.
The guilt of making wrong choices.
Not bad choices, but the wrong ones.
Ones that no justification can fix,
That no reassurance can change.
No,
Too many times I picked wrong.
Nevermind the ones I got right.
Where I knew the second I looked.
Nevermind the bonus I gained,
The bonus to offset my loss.
My net is still less,
And I still wrack my brain in distress
Over these small, small, minuscule
Numbers.
Because maybe it was more than 3.
Maybe those 3 were enough
To throw off my game.
To push the knowledge from my mind.
To ruin my afternoon,
And ruin my chances.
Chances at perfection, or as close I could get.
Perfection which has always been desired,
Though I know it's a lie.
Perfection which haunts me since
I'll never know it.
Oh, Perfection, I know you're not real!
I know you don't matter!
But nevertheless, I feel
As though I need you.
I strive to achieve you.
You'll always be my goal.
But I know that I'll fail.
I understand it completely,
I recognize the lie of perfection in entirety
But that doesn't mean
I don't want it.
It doesn't mean I'll ever stop
Striving for it.
After all, isn't this goal bred into me?
Socialized to attain to perfection,
To make my parents proud
In the only way I know.
In the only way that really matters:
With success.
And success is spelled with one letter.
A.
Plus,
What is my goal without perfection?
What else have I been raised to seek?
What do I know beyond school
Beyond studying,
Beyond grades,
Beyond the constant scramble for perfection?
Nothing.
I'm unsettled outside learning.
Yet I know I don't need structure
To learn.
I can learn on my own
But it isn't the same.
There isn't the drive.
There isn't the need.
There isn't the burning shame
That keeps me from failure.
But there isn't the shame
Or the disappointment
When I do fail.
Because I always do
And I always will
Fail.
It's so much an inevitability
That I cling to it as my rock.
Ah, yes, the certainty of failure.
Because no matter what I do,
No matter what I try,
I know that in the end
I'll fail somehow.
I'll fail my expectations.
I'll fail my parents' expectations.
I'll fail society's expectations.
I'll never live up to my potential,
And I know that for certain
Because no human does.
We're flawed creatures.
We bite off more than we can chew.
We dream bigger than we can attain.
It's our curse
And it plagues me
Because I know it, and I see it.
So I'll continue to tear myself apart
All over 3 fucking choices I made
While under stress,
With a pencil in hand,
And I'll never reward myself
For the 37 I got right.
Or for the bonus that I attained.
No, I'll fixate on the minor failings
Because that's what I know,
And that's what I do.
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