Some people say I care too much. Sometimes I think I do too. I have this thing that sometimes serves as a gift and other times serves as a curse. This gift/curse is that I hurt for other people. However, I also know how to celebrate with other people. I seem to be able to be in tune with peoples' feelings and almost experience a fragment of what they might be feeling with them. Maybe you think I am lying. But I can't tell you how many times I've stayed up at night worrying about people and wondering how I might be able to help them.
Even people I don't know very well. Or people I don't know at all but just merely observe.
Last year, I started struggling in one of my science classes. I am just not a science/math whiz. At the time, I was on Utah State's track team. My coach pulled me aside and suggested that I get a tutor before my grade was too low. So I gave in and got a tutor, but I was not very happy about it. I hate asking for help. I went into it with a pretty horrible attitude. I remember meeting my tutor for the first time; I was disgusted. He did not have the best hygiene. I did not want him to breathe on me. He wore old polo shirts that were almost completely faded of color. He was also pretty peculiar. I did not look forward to spending two nights a week with this character.
As time passed though, I grew quite fond of him. He was really nice and very patient with me. He also laughed when I did funny stuff, which made me like him a lot too. I found myself getting attached to my tutor, even if he was a little nerd. My grade also improved drastically. I aced the final and ended up getting an A in the class. I owe it all to him. I would have probably earned myself a C without his help.
I decided I wanted to get him a little Christmas/thank you present for our last tutor session together before we would be out for Christmas break. It was nothing big. I bought a Christmas mug and filled it up with assorted chocolates, then wrapped it cute. I will never forget how happy he was though. He was in complete shock over the simple gift I gave him. He wouldn't stop telling me thank you and he had the hugest smile plastered on his face. He wasn't just being polite either. It was one of those things where I could tell he was sincerely excited that I had thought of him.
I thought to myself, "Dude, it's just a mug with candy in it. Settle down."
But I think it was so special to him because some prideful athlete that started out thinking she was too good for him, had actually taken the time to think of him. My heart broke a little. That was the last time I ever saw my tutor. I hope he is happy. I wish I would have been better to him and gotten to know his story better. I feel bad.
I am not supposed to talk about my job a lot, but it tears me apart sometimes, working with these wonderful kids that don't get to experience certain things. Once when I was in the changing room with a boy, I randomly started bawling because I thought about how other boys his age were out chasing girls and doing silly boy things. . .things he would never get to experience. I felt like the biggest idiot, just randomly starting to cry in that room. I forced myself to gain back control, so I could go back out with the rest of the staff.
Today I had one of those bitter moments where I wanted to randomly cry again. I was at the fieldhouse, running on a blasted treadmill, looking out over the indoor track and field. It was early, so there was a 7:30 class just starting on the track. I don't know what the class is exactly, but it basically reminds me of one of my high school track practices. They do different stretches, warm up, and run their guts out, yadda, yadda, yadda. I took interest in a particular guy in the class though. He was actually in my ward last year, and he lived with one of my guy friends. My friend always told me how weird he was. I realized I had never even taken the time to talk to the guy. Maybe said hi when I was over at their apartment, but that was about it. He was trying really hard to do all that was requested of him, but he was really struggling. He just isn't the athletic type. I noticed he wasn't really socializing with anyone either. He looked alone. And at that moment, I felt like the ugliest, most evil person alive. Why did I not ever try making friends with him? How could I be so selfish? I wondered if he had any close friends. I wondered if he loved a girl, or if a girl loved him. I hoped with all my heart at that moment, that he would find a girl to love him.
Am I ridiculous or what guys?
But I thought about how it wasn't fair. No one should be alone. No one should single someone out for being "weird" or "not cool". And everyone should have the right to be loved. I felt a bit depressed the rest of the morning. . . .until. . . .
something wonderful happened.
I was walking to Old Main, and snow was softly falling off the trees and glittering down around me. It was a beautiful scene, but what I saw happening within the scene was even more beautiful. My Math 1010 teacher was walking along, holding hands with a woman. Then he stopped and gave her a hug and softly touched her face. My broken heart from earlier was instantly mended. Let me tell you why.
My math teacher was, well, an odd duck. But so nice. The nicest guy ever. He was just kind of a slob. Overweight, unkept gray hair, thick glasses, and he always seemed so nervous. Kids in my class were kind of mean to him too. Just because they could be, because he is the type of person that just gets pushed around a lot. I always felt so bad. I would always smile and tell him thank you after class, hoping maybe that made him feel special. I also hoped he had a lady. I prayed he had a lady. If he had someone to love him, then everything would be fine, and my mind could be at peace. He is an older guy and he never had a wedding band on his finger. I began to have my doubts and figured he was just a lonely, old man whose only joy was teaching math. Sad, I know.
So seeing him with a lady seriously made my day!! Especially after the gym incident. My old math teacher has given me hope that the guy at the gym has a lady, and that maybe my tutor has picked up a girl as well.
Like the Beatles say, "All you need is love."
Speaking of the Beatles, my dad and brother went to the Beatles Love show in Vegas. I was jealous. . .but they did bring me back a pretty sweet Beatles shirt.
And on the note of love, this Friday the 28th will mark one year that I've been crushin on this boy. . .