Reunited. But not really.
It’s been 10 years (nearly 11, actually) since I was a high school student. In March, I am meant to attend my ten-year high school reunion. I even helped make a website to that effect. But to what end these reunions?
The good things about high school I have mostly taken with me as I crawled forward with my life. I stayed in town and commuted to college with my best friend from high school, assisted with the yearbook that my mentor ran at the school, became head coach and director of the fencing program, continued to write fantasy stories, mosty kept in contact with the people with whom I was close. I do miss some people, but we drifted apart and there must be a reason for that.
So why attend? To show off that I am dubiously successful? I’m not proud of much of what I do and my path toward something more fulfilling will seem frivolous and unrealistic at first blush. To hope that people I dislike have fallen on their faces? I’m not really the type to gloat over others’ failures, nor to grieve them; I’m as apathetic to these people now as I was then. To learn how many people knew that Amy Bosman fell off her balcony mysteriously in Chicago and how many people went to her funeral? I can live with the curiosity.
Nostalgia is really not possible for me in this regard. But regret… I do have my regrets.
I should have joined drama club and not worried so much that many of them participated in elicit activities. I should have stayed in contact with certain people, should have asked certain girls out; I really wasn’t fat or unappealing. I should have done more to stay with my first girlfriend. I should have apologized to Julie Schultz when she innocently asked me something in Math Analysis and I snapped at her without reason, only to watch her genuinely sweet face fall more than I thought I could ever affect anyone. I should have been a better friend to K, though that was after high school.
But can I really make things right with a cursory conversation over drinks? Is closure a good motivation to attend? I was once gregarious and unaffected. Now I have a little more shame, a little more self-awareness and a lot more bitterness. Starting conversations with these people who will assume so much based on who I was and how I appear now just seems daunting and unrewarding. Am I likely to form new friendships or rekindle old ones?
Were I single, I doubt I’d even be questioning this, actually. Sad but true, I’d be relishing the opportunity to meet with old flames, even if it only ended in a sweaty excursion to the women’s bathroom. I’ve never been one to talk up my accomplishments, particularly when I view them as simply my job. Nor do I think it will be fun to feign interest in people who are now strangers while I watch them feign interest in me. I must deal with that enough already. Without the possibility of indiscretion, I’ve got little motivation at all.
Maybe this coding thing really has made me anti-social. All the more reason to knock it off.
I dunno. I skipped my 10 year and my 20 year reunions because I couldn’t think of a single person I wanted to see whom I didn’t still keep contact with. The teachers I liked most are all likely long gone, and the most I’d feel would be a burning desire to turn back time and storm through at 16 with the knowledge I have now at 41.
Some people can enjoy reunions — my mother in law has gone to 40 and 50 year reunions and had a great time — but for me, it’s mostly a chance to look at the fallen, feel better or worse in comparison, and maybe stew. There’s no one in particular I can recall with whom I need closure (like you, I stayed where I was for a while, and I’ve met up with most of them in the years since). If there’s someone hanging around there who has some regret concerning me — a thought I’ve never had and still can’t quite imagine is possible — I’ve never really gone OUT of contact.
I refuse, at this point, to give time and energy to anything with as potential to piss me off or make me cry as a reunion has. So, I skip. I asked to have my name removed from the list. It’s the past. Let it lay.
Comment by Sherri — 2/8/2006 @ 2:05 pm
Bring MHG… I know I’d love to meet her. And screw what everyone else thinks. No speeches, no slideshows, no pretense. (My) J was looking forward to seeing you again. Doubtless there are others.
Hell, I’ll pay for your ticket.
And, our grateful thanks for the website. It wouldn’t have happened without you.
Come, don’t come. But we’ll miss you if you choose not to. :)
Comment by Kate — 2/11/2006 @ 4:04 pm
Again, I have to say it’s more about what I think then what others do. And I’ll not be beholden to anyone regarding the purchase of tickets.
But, give your husband my best; maybe I will see him there. No promises. I still don’t really see the point of going.
Comment by steelbuddha — 2/11/2006 @ 11:18 pm
It was an honest offer; nothing to feel beholden for. And I do hope you come.
My best to you, as always.
Comment by Kate — 2/12/2006 @ 10:09 pm
IMHO, going turned out for the worse. Let’s not do that again.
Comment by RaggedyAndroid — 11/8/2006 @ 11:33 am