9.26.25 - The Brutal Fall | 1 | Call Me Mr. Miracle
I didn't get a return offer from the summer firm. I haven't landed a clerkship just yet. I had a mini crashout and tuckered out for the tail end of the summer and the early fall. I'm four weeks behind in readings. I have a DOJ honors interview coming up and a few clerkship interviews.
At the moment, the career of my dreams and a continued trend of falling upwards are still in my grasp. At the same time, I stare nevrously into an abyss, and I'm on the precipice of losing everything I have worked for. I face the very real prospect of post-bar unemployment. Of tanking my hard earned GPA and being a sad story.
But failure has never been an option. I have an extremely hot girlfriend, an extremely supportive cast of friends, family and mentors who have invested in me and are counting on me.
This is one of the climactic acts of one of the greatest dramas of my life. The main character (me) has been knocked down, all certainty and security has been taken from me. I have nothing lined up, and no safety net under me. I have my wits, my grit, my mind, and my moxy.
Today I got a rejection from one of my "safe" options. The only opportunities left are even more competitive. The middle way was never an option. I thought I could be one of those people who lands a summer gig then rests on his laurels. Alas, it was not to be.
So here I present to you a real, high-stakes, tight-rope act. Time and treasure has been spilt to afford these opportunities.
Everyone's life is a story. Will mine be a triumph, or a tragedy? Will I look back on this time and be able to reassure my children with a story of a time that I had truly fucked up, but somehow turned it all around? Will I be able to retroactively rationalize all that has happened to me, say that all the failures led to something better--as I've been able to so far? Will I one day experience the joy of sitting, bathed in the warm glow of restaurant candles, and the smiles of loving and trusted faces--while recounting this time and weaving it into a grand narrative about my life that I can be proud of? Or is this the beginning of a sad story, one day to be told by a bitter old man who always felt he could've done more, who never felt that he lived up to his potential? Who made it so close to great success but slipped and choked at the critical moment, letting it all fall from his grasp?
Failure has never been an option. I have outlines ready to fill. I have chapters to read. I have weights to life. I have a woman to marry. I have people to make proud. I have an obligation to a world I need to contribute to.
Everyone loves a comeback story. And I'll write one for you.
Call me Mr. Miracle
With my back against the wall
I was sittin' all alone
Now I get it, oh, now I get it
Call me Mr. Miracle
Silver castles have to fall
But I found my way back home
Now I get it, oh, now I get it
knxnts