There was a day in middle school when I was out and about. I was probably walking around Clay Terrace with friends or seeing a PG-13 movie without my parents at Regal and feeling awesome about it. When I got home that afternoon—dropped off by my friend’s mom, of course—I went in my room and sat at my desk. My dad came in moments later and before I could say a word started talking and said the following. “Andy Dugan drove up our driveway on a golf-cart with two high-school girls on the back and asked where you were. I said not home, and Andy said thanks and drove away. I don’t know what it means…but it happened.” He walked right out when he was done, clearly very confused. My dad may never know what that random afternoon meant nor will I ever have the pleasure of spending an afternoon cruising along the west side of Carmel on the back of an electric golf cart with those girls. This story turned from a short awkward interaction with my dad to a phrase I would define myself by. There are certain things in our life we are not able to place right now. Not because of a lack of ability to see the bigger picture and not because of a lack of experience or knowledge, but simply because the time is not right. We are encouraged to ask a lot of questions in school, but we would all agree those questions don’t haunt us. It’s the questions that happen on a Tuesday at 10:45 at night that are scary. Questions like why during freshman year you stared for five seconds too many at the pretty girl in your gym class and now you can NEVER look at her again. Why sophomore year you decided to walk down the senior hallway and say “hi” to one of the few seniors you “know,” only to get his name wrong and know you can NEVER go down that hallway again or junior year when you date a senior and get dumped a week after prom because she “never had feelings for you.” And now you know you can NEVER use her parking pass again. Luckily, today I am able to look at these events and times and answer all of these questions with a lesson I have learned. I can tell freshman Leo to say “Hi” versus just staring at the pretty girl. I can tell sophomore Leo to work on peoples’ names; it will mean much more to say “Hey Will” versus “Hey man.” And to tell junior Leo that its not about what it meant to her, but what it meant to you, and remind him how lucky he is that, for every bad day he has, 10 better ones are right around the corner. It does not matter what grade you are in: next year is going to throw you a curveball at some point. But, what we have to learn to do is to not let it stop us in our tracks, but to take it for what it is and keep moving. Trust a second-semester senior in saying time moves faster than you think. It’s been easy for me. I am an overzealous extroverted optimist with a song in his heart and a skip in his step, but I know it is not that easy for everyone. The key is to always put things in perspective and realize many times it might take a month or a year to understand the “why’s” we ask about. In the mean time, you can just tell yourself “I Don’t Know What It Means…But It Happened.” It got me this far. Leo Biette is currently undecided on where he will attend college in the fall. Reach Leo Biette at [email protected].
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I Don’t Know What It Means, But It Happened. You might not know why everything happens at that moment, but in time you will.
May 22, 2014
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