For every student who dared to dream

The result loads. You read it once — then again — because some part of you can't believe the number is real. Then it breaks open. The phone call where words refuse to come.
The parent on the other end, breathing differently.
The tears that arrive before you decide to cry.

This is what every early morning was for. Every chapter chosen over every party. Every doubt you pushed through anyway.
You bet on yourself — and you were right.

— That feeling is already inside you, waiting.