...I apologize for not finishing sooner (and if you have no clue what I'm talking about you probably shouldn't continue reading this until you finish part 1, I'm just saying). The irony, however, is the connection between what happened 20 years ago on the beach to what prompted me to even tell that crazy story took much longer, hurt much more than the week I've left you hanging....so I withdraw my apology.
So obviously my life was spared, I didn't get dragged out to sea, didn't meet Ariel...even though that would have been tight... and I'm not using the Apostle Paul's keyboard in Heaven finishing this blog. I'm in Colorado, worked hard for the past two days without much sleep and now relaxing in a hotel room in the middle of no where praying I don't get bed bugs. I'm tired and this may not make much sense but I'll give it a shot... so hang with me and hopefully it will all come together in the end.
Life didn't slow down, it continued. I got older but my ways of thinking/behaving were already deeply ingrained and established. In fact, I read that 85% of your personality is formed between the ages of 2-6 so I guess it will take more than a drowning scare to change how I was already being shaped (not to mention I'm stubborn as well ;). Anyways with that said, even though I grew taller and faster as I adjusted to an embarrassing squeaky voice, side note: that's just an awkward time of life as it is, my performance driven attitude was already being solidified. I succeeded in school; I worked hard in athletics and won starting positions each year in the prestigious game of Texas football; I became very competitive, never wanting to fail. There was always more to attain, more room for improvement, something else to try. If I performed below my standards I would quickly adapt in order to not make the same mistake again. My life was driven by constant analysis of performance and results, finishing ahead always the priority.
For example, I remember my first semester at Baylor.
ahhhh the life of a freshman as we perceive. Finally I wasn't governed by parents, sports and doing well in school to get into a good college, I just wanted to kick back and enjoy the freedom of being an adolescent out on my own, girls and partying were at the focus. I only wanted to study enough and do well enough to keep my scholarship which was maintaining a 3.2 gpa. However, when grades came back at the end of the semester I made a 3.9!?! Most would be happy with this and I was, but due to my insanity, now I knew what I was capable of making. The bar was set. So therefore the rest of what was suppose to be the "good life" would be offset by studying to maintain or improve my 3.9, but that's another story....
I tell all of this for a reason, not to boast by any means but hoping to paint a small picture. To bring up memories, a mold, the route I traveled, who I am, why I made the choices I made, for better or worse. Because without the smallest idea of the author, then me explaining this next event will only be words on a screen to you. It will be lifeless and only a simple reading, but to me it was much more, it was real. It was life, my life crashing against something out of my control. For those who know me, you probably know exactly what I am getting to...a storm, a sea, it blind sided me and caught me quick and I didn't know what to do....it's late, im tired. will finish later....
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