Spills like honey from the window.
You think you have done all you could. You think you have done your very best.
But it is all relative, or so they say.
It seems to me that, in reality, there will always be someone who turns out to be many times better than you are.
You run a thousand miles, but someone else already did a thousand and ten. Oh, my apologies – the feat was not previously recorded, he chews his pen nervously.
You burn the midnight oil, but still lose out to being first in class for an academic year, by just one bloody point. Oops, sorry – I win this time, her eyes twinkle merrily.
He is quicker by just one step, settling his many cans of sardines on the counter, much to the amusement of the cashier. She snatches the last and lonely pair of pink, stiletto heeled boots from the rack with a vicious snarl. He gets the most coveted position in the company, attracting envious looks and juicy gossip. She finds another man to be with, but you think he just is not good enough for her.
To put it nicely; yes, not everyone can win.
But it is just as plain as day that you have lost.
Yes, the disappointment can be difficult to be denied.
The top of the crop perches atop the highest mountain, enveloped in a strong beam of light. Shadows fall on you, further solidfying a notable presence that you know you cannot shrug away as easily as dandelion seeds being carried in the wind. And you have to raise your eyes to look up to the face of your… adversary.
That may be just competition.
But can there ever be the best of the best of the best?