and the ivy league says no.

{what might have been}

So maybe I'm not made for the Ivy League.

I applied to Georgetown on a whim. The idea of schooling and traipsing around D.C. with Jordan appealed to me, and I wanted to prove that my degree from little ol' Faulkner couldn't limit me or my dreams.

Perhaps those weren't the best reasons to apply for their graduate program in English. To be fair, their course catalogue also sent my heart into palpitations, so my reasoning wasn't entirely flawed.

The truth is, of course, that I am disappointed. That's what often happens when one fails to adequately prove a point.

But there is another, deeper part of me -- the stubborn 7th grade basketball reject who envisioned herself to be the next Sheryl Swoopes -- that knows this doesn't matter, for oh-so-many reasons.

God obviously wants me somewhere else.

His plans are bigger than my dreams.

And one day, I will publish a novel. And Georgetown will wonder what might have been.