Zip It

Today I was talking to Ms. Reasor and I realized something. I feel like I've been in college for a loooooong time. So long, that all of those extra o's were completely necessary. It suddenly feels like I've been living here my whole life and all of my elementary/middle/high school days are so distant. Something started when I came here. When I walked into my dorm bedroom that first fall and saw all of Ms. Reasor's things piled on her side of the room. And the framed photos of her and her sisters--especially the one where she and Courtlin are dressed up in crazy clothes with false mustaches.

That first year I ate a lot of pancakes and baked potatoes. Dashboard Confessional was my alarm in the mornings. Then Ms. Reasor moved out and another girl moved in, but was never home, so I could listen to music while I got ready for the day.

The second year Ms. Reasor and I put a sign on our door and invited people in. We wanted to make friends real bad. That didn't really work. But other things did--like talking to people. Sometimes I still feel like the pivotal part of my college life transpired in the egregiously ugly Canyon Terrace Apartments.

I remember Ms. Reasor and I talking about boys. A lot. All of the time, it would seem. And I remember that there was a boy who was very important to her and I didn't understand the situation. And when she was going through that and feeling so sad and I thought I knew the solution, but I really didn't--I think that's when I started to learn to be a better listener. Part of being a better listener is simply shutting your mouth and not trying to force the wisdom you think you have on other people. Because your wisdom, frankly, doesn't do a whole lot for someone else's life. It may not be wisdom at all. And you can't force realizations that you have on other people. Because it's not their realizations. It very well may not be right for them. I think I first realized that when we were walking down the sidewalk from the Marriot Center one day, going home. I don't know what event we were coming from, but I remember finally understanding that sometimes someone just needs you to listen. They don't need your advice. They don't need your opinion. They don't even need your condolences. They just need your ears and your silence.