“If” is the most polite way to brace for failure.

A friend asked “what’s next”?

I said I’m experimenting with a bunch of things. I’ll let you know when one lands.

He paused: “I like that you said when. Not if.”

That remark been living in my head ever since.

“If” is a cushion. It softens the blow before it hits. It’s a quiet exit route, rehearsed in advance.

But I’ve learned that the only unknown is when, not whether.

And when is infuriating…

It doesn’t follow my demanded pace.

It drags. It stretches. It pretends not to hear me.

It doesn’t follow my calendar or care how ready I am.

Hard, asymmetric outcomes often arrive on a massive lag. Usually after you’ve adjusted your expectations twice. Sometimes after you’ve already stopped looking.

And in the worst stretches, delay starts to look like dead ends.

In real time, limbo and failure wear the same face.

There’s no label when you’re mid-wait, so you start to interpret the silence.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t coming. It means that the outcome isn’t listening to your tempo.

So no, it’s not “if.”

It’s “when.” Still.

Even if I hate the pace.

The only thing worse than the wait….is stepping out, and never finding out how close you were.