but if i got this serve in, i'd have a better chance.
ace. back to deuce. one more serve.
in. she gives me a backhand and i kill it. 4-3.
i never expected it to be that way, my first tennis game. my teammates were depending on me - screaming my name repetitively from behind the metal fence. my parents were watching, and this was my chance to show them that i had a bit of the athlete in me. just a bit of it. although the pressure sunk in heavily, all the pep talks from my coach, all the laps we had to run, all the drills we had to do - led to this.
and i won that game, 6-5.
i was so, so happy.
you see, i choose to be happy almost all the time. this happy, however, was at a whole different level: not the kind of happy that i feel when i jump into a cold swimming pool on a scorching summer afternoon, or the kind of happy when i witness someone trying nutella for the first time. it was earned happiness, a deserved kind of happiness. all the hard work for an earned feeling - a feeling that is initially expected and desired, then sooner attained.
and so;
i remember how my parents kept their hands on my shoulders, as if they were showing me off like a huge sweepstake prize. i remember the feeling of anticipation when i hit my final backhand. i remember the big slap on my back that victory gave me the moment i saw the score board. and i remember giving off what seemed to be a smile to others, but so much more to me, inside.
merry christmas!!!
