It’s hard for me to fathom, but it is time for my 25th class reunion.
I know, I know…
How is it possible that I have been out of high school for 25 years?
However, it’s true.
Reunions fill me with a feeling of glee.
Not because I’ll get to see my high school BFF’s, because Kim, Erin, Michaela and I talk on a fairly regular basis to begin with.
And, none of them are coming to this one.
But, because a reunion is my high school yearbook come to life.
Our high school had all the cliques that were rampant in the movies I loved to watch in the ’80’s.
There were jocks and geeks and prom queens and druggies and every other type of kid you can imagine.
My high school was incredibly diverse and so, for the most part, there was a small group for everyone.
I loved high school.
I really did.
But, not because I was in the middle of it all, soaking in every second of experience that high school had to offer.
Truth be told…
I was a background kid.
My friends had large groups of friends, but my group was small.
I was friendly to people, and people were friendly to me, but I wasn’t getting invited to any parties, and no one was thinking of nominating me for anything when yearbook superlative time came around.
And that was fine with me.
I had my girls and other than that, I preferred to just watch it all unfold around me.
I don’t love a reunion to reconnect with people I haven’t heard from in years.
The truth is, I probably know what most of the people who will show up had for dinner last night, thanks to Facebook.
Actually, when you think about it, Facebook makes the whole idea of the reunion a bit outdated to begin with.
The people who want to stay in touch do, and the people who don’t? Well, they generally aren’t on social media sites and probably won’t show up at the reunion.
If they even know about the reunion, since they aren’t on Facebook.
See how that works?
And, if the last reunion was any indication, most of the people there won’t know who I am anyway.
I can’t tell you the number of people Real Man had to introduce me to.
“Hey…aren’t you going to introduce me to your wife?”
“Um, it’s Amy. Amy Lawrence? She graduated with us.”
“Oh, sorry…I can’t place you.”
And, while I have aged, I don’t look different enough that I’m unrecognizable.
But, you gotta be in it to win it, and I was definitely not in it.
No, I go to the reunions because for a people watcher like me, it’s exactly like the days when I would sit on a bench in the atrium and watch the crowd go by.
They may not know me, but I know them, because while they were busy talking and laughing and fighting and posing, I was taking it all in.
This is not to say that I’ll be sitting in a corner, speaking to no one.
As an adult, living in the town in which I grew up, I have become friends with many of the people that I didn’t know well in high school, and some of them will be there.
Others, I didn’t know at all, but we’ve through Facebook, and I am looking forward to seeing them in person after only really getting to know them across fiber optic cables and miles and miles of land.
Because, as an adult, the nonsense of high school slips away, and the person who you thought was so much better than you and that you would never be able to be friends with, turns out to be facing the same struggles, and is every bit as human and fragile as you.
So, yeah, I’m going to the reunion, and while people may not remember who I was, I’m excited for them to meet who I’ve become.