I'm a Terrible Murder Investigator

"So, how was your day?"

"It was good...oh, it was so funny...the professor....the lab was...and so he said...and I was like, are you serious?...so then she said it was muscular dystrophy...OMM...we were all laughing..."

"That's good."

I have a confession to make. I'm not a good listener.

I have always prided myself on being such a great listener. I have always been the friend to give advice, to lend a helping hand, to help those who are struggling internally.

"If you ever need to talk, I'm a great listener." I'd say.

And there is some truth to that statement. Some.

I am a great listener, when I want to be. When Ben is home from school, and I'm home from work, there's usually about 5 minutes where we are both on the couch, on our phones. I still have to take the dog for a walk and start dinner, and Ben is taking a break before he hits the books again.

We stare at our phones and do the whole, "How was your day?" And then we half-listen to each others replies. Well, at least I do.

When Ben and I first started dating, I remember one particular night that I was in my room watching a movie with friends while he studied in the science building on campus. It was winter time, and I remember how cold and dreary it had been.

All of a sudden, my phone blew up with buzzes and bright lights in the dark room. My friends all turned to me with a curious look. Who was calling me so late? Ben. Something must be wrong.

"Quick! You have to come see this!" He exclaimed.

"What is it? Are you hurt?"

"No! Just come look! Quickly!" He hung up.

I had never put my boots and jacket on so fast. I left my friends wondering what was going on and raced out into the wintry weather.

My boots slid up the slippery wet sidewalk. I huddled into my jacket and tried to breathe warm air into my freezing hands.

Snow piled up in blankets on the grass beside me. The flakes flying through the beams of light that covered the dim walkway.

It was painfully cold.

I ran through the science building doors. My footsteps were loud in the barren building, only a few lights still on. I didn't know which room Ben was in. Right when I took my phone out to call him, he popped out of one of the rooms, a huge grin on his face. "Come here!" He said.

I rushed to his side, and into the classroom. He pointed to the whiteboard, still smiling.

There were scribbles beyond scribbles on the board. I could make out that one image was a brain, and a bunch of little neurons were drawn next to it. The rest of the image, I honestly couldn't tell you.

"Isn't this amazing?" Ben beamed.

I stood there, still shaking cold, staring at this drawing that I did not understand.

"Um...what exactly am I looking at?" I remember asking.

Ben began, "Well the brain has a way of...and so then it fires off...and so that's why we can...amazing, right?!?!"

To be honest, I do not remember what the drawing was on the board. I do not remember why he was so excited, or what he was talking about. I do remember how I felt. Partially, I was angry he made me go out in this weather to see some dumb drawings. Moreso, however, seeing his eyes light up, his whole body language change was incredible. His excitement could be felt all through my body, I almost wanted to cry. I could literally feel his enthusiasm warming me.

I remember thinking, "I have no idea what this man is talking about, but I could listen to him for the rest of my life."

That's when I knew. Ben was extremely smarter than me. His eye for logic and science far surpassed what my brain could comprehend. I am more of a creative thinker, someone who doesn't venture too much outside the box.

Just the other day, Ben described me as a murder investigator who had a photo of the murderer in my hand the whole time, yet I still suspected other people. I seem to miss what's right in front of me quite often. Now, while that comment might not sound too endearing, it just goes to show how opposite Ben and I are and yet how much he cherishes that. We fit like two mismatched puzzle pieces that, in the end, create a beautiful image. And that's okay with me.

Another example, growing up, I HATED math. I was in a freshman math class my senior year of High School, if that tells you anything. Second guessing is my specialty. I would do the math problem the way it should be done, and get a number. I would think, "that number doesn't look right," or, "there may be another answer. Let me do it again." During standardized tests, I would excel high above others in reading and writing, but score under "mentally challenged" in math. I'm not kidding. There can't be just one answer! There's always another answer!!! My dad used to say he liked math because it would always lead you to one answer. I despised it, and I still do.

I admit, I should be a better listener to things that I may not be interested in. I should actually listen to what Ben says when he's explaining things. Part of me is stubborn, and I don't wish to learn anything new. It's too much for me to handle sometimes. Silly, I know.

The other part of me is jealous. Jealous that things come so easily for him, and it takes me a lot longer to comprehend things. (Always looking for everyone else but the actual murderer, ya feel me?)

I need to learn to listen. I need to learn to understand where other people are coming from and not second guess everything. I need to learn to slow my roll and look at what's in front of me, instead of always trying to dance around it.

I also really really hope our kids have his brain and not mine. I don't think he could handle two of me :)

-Tay

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