Falling Short– the Only Thing You're Good At

You’ve done all you can, and therefore thought you’re ready for your dream job. You quit your old one, and pinned all hopes that this time, you’ll land the very role you’ve been aiming since you can remember– in a top, reputable company.

You’ve passed the initial interview, and were all hurrah as you received the notification on the text that told you of your next interview, but this time, with the head of the department where you wanted to be part of. 

You arrived on time. As questions were asked, you gamely answered in a smart and confident manner. At the end, you seemed to glean from the manager’s face a look of satisfaction. However, she told you to wait for another text from them to know whether you passed or not. Although disappointed and anxious by the prolonged verdict, you warmly shook her hands as she told you, “we’ll just text you”.

On your way home you were fervently praying – with the advent of even kneeling (never mind if you will look weird to all the people who could see you!) – that you may land the job.

Weeks have passed and you still haven’t heard from them.  You gathered all the strength that you can muster and texted the number that notifies the result. You cordially stated your name and the position you were applying for then inquired whether you made it or not. No reply.  You firmly wrapped your hands around your mobile phone – as if in a praying stance – hoping that it will sound off an incoming message.  You do not care anymore if it will be a good news or bad for as long as you get hold of the result.  You just wanted to end the agony of waiting, which you thought was the hardest part, since you were stuck in the middle of hoping and not hoping at the same time. You wanted to pass but, you don’t want to hope because you knew it would just hurt you, when you learned otherwise.

A little later, your phone beeped- you received a text. It was them saying, yes, you’ve passed. You cannot hide your joy. You felt like jumping in euphoria. However, it didn't end there. Indeed, after the line stating that you’ve passed, the line stating about your next interview came next. This time, it was with the managing director. And you’re like, “seriously, the managing director is going to interview me and check if I qualify for the position? It couldn’t be any harder, for sure”.

The fateful day where you’d face the managing director arrived. Again, you came in early. Your butt hasn’t warmed up your seat yet, when he texted that he’s going to run a bit late. You sighed, and replied saying, “sure, Sir.  Take your time”, and ended it with a smiley. You were happy to be given some time to prepare and compose yourself before facing him. Minutes have passed and you were already waiting for an hour but he hasn’t arrived yet. And you’re like: “My composing time staled; now I’m tired”.

When he finally came he was very apologetic for making you waited for too long. So, you were like, “Oh, Sir. Don’t mind it. It’s okay”. At the back of your mind, you wished he hadn’t arrived so soon, because you were not ready yet. As to when you’ll be ready, you didn’t know.

As he began asking questions, your heart started beating faster. Your voice became shaky. Your face – which was trying to project confidence – was betrayed by your shameful stutter. The managing director looked at you intently, which made you become intimated  all the more. It has caused you to falter all the way till the end of the interview. When he finished the interview, you were swearing in your mind. You’ve known you failed.

Your walk to the bus station was all blurry as tears gushed down your cheeks. Hope seemed to have abandoned you. Agony encompassed and ate you right down your very spine. You just lost your dream job! “What now?” You were thinking. You have nothing. No back-up plan. No whatsoever. You have clung to your hope so much; you have even forgotten to devise a contingency plan. You’re screwed up. An undefined sorrow started to swallow you. There’s nothing but tears around your eyes. Your cheeks are all damp. Your tears kept on rushing down all the way to your neck. To make the scene more melodramatic, you pulled out your earphones and put on an appropriate song, and then went your way as if you were the only person in the world. 

You thought you were ready. You thought you wouldn’t be intimidated. You studied every time you’ve had a chance. In fact, you even know the latest trends about the industry. But as you faced the man you’ve got to convince, you’ve lost your words. You went by your sentences unknown of its substance. You went around the bush– unable to convey the very core of your message. You ended up shaming yourself to the bigwig man who could’ve been your boss, if only you did better. But how can you.. when falling short seems to be the only thing you’re good at.