MEGHAN FRICK

The grad school acceptance letters, that is. And the internship offers. And the job opportunities.

At least, that's what some students are receiving. For others, the answer to the question they've poured semesters of work into is a solid, unchanging "no."

When the "no" or the "next year" or the "I'm sorry" comes, remember one thing: This may be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

When I was 18 years old, I wanted nothing more than an acceptance letter from Clemson University and a chance to go to school with my high school best friends. That's not what I got.

Our orange-and-white envelopes all came on the same day and we opened them together. While my friends ripped open their letter-sized packets and shrieked about roommate arrangements and football tickets, I slowly folded my paper-thin envelope into four squares and slipped it into my pocket. I knew what was inside.

A few years later, I desperately wanted to be an RA. I made my way through the rounds of awkward interviews and the weeks of waiting and then the day came. I clicked through the email in my dark dorm room, with my freshman-year roommate fast asleep in her bed, and the answer was no.

No thank you, we're sorry, maybe next year, try again. Every time I heard those words, I thought it was the end of the world. And every single time, I couldn't have been more wrong.

If I'd gotten into Clemson, I would've been stuck at a school with two best friends who very quickly became barely-even-acquaintances months before high school graduation. I also would've spent at least one year at a school that didn't offer my major or anything close to it.

But beyond that, I would've missed out on Appalachian State. I would have missed blizzards and Parkway picnics and a million other memories I'll hold close when I finally graduate.

Then, if I'd been chosen as an RA, I would've missed out on The Appalachian. I thought I wanted a life of key-ins and programs and late-night hall bonding, but I was wrong. What I really wanted was whirlwind deadlines and quote-of-the-days and naps on the office floor.

If I'd gotten that job freshman year, I would've missed one of the best things that's ever happened to me - and I never would've met some of my best friends.

Those are the things that are waiting when someone tells you no. So when you get a rejection letter or an "unfortunately" email or a "never mind" phone call, don't dwell on closed doors or halted possibilities. Instead, remember what could be next.

When disappointment comes, it's often because we need the room in our lives for something we haven't even imagined yet.

Frick, a senior public relations major from Columbia, S.C., is the associate editor for editorial content.