Nothing strikes fear into the heart of someone who left their past behind like the words High School Reunion.
Honestly, it’s probably the reason why I stayed off Facebook for so long.
And why my Profile still looks like this:
Don’t get me wrong. My classmates were good people. It was boarding school, and they were just like family. Only better, because NOT family.
It’s hard to describe how much you miss friends like that – such an intimate part of your daily life one day, gone the next.
Even harder when you know a big part of the reason they were ‘gone’ is that you slammed the door.
Let me put this in perspective.
It was a Christian school, and most of my friends were believers in some sense. But normal, you know?
It was just a part of their lives, along with boy crushes and manicures and torturing the Dean’s pet cat.
There was Before Graduation. Do gooder preacher girl. On track for sainthood with a scholarship for Theology school firmly in hand.
Then there was After Graduation.
The about face probably made no sense to anyone but me.
I disappeared off the face of the earth, leaving a trail of burned bridges and lots of rumours in my wake.
Fast forward twenty years and my real and imaginary worlds suddenly collide with a mysterious Friend Request.
Crap, this name sounds familiar, I’m thinking. Who is this? What do they want with me?
My finger hovers over that button like the key rattling Pandora’s box. Open Sesame, a world of hurt to follow…
Sure enough, Class of 1994 has tracked me down. I feel old. Really, really old.
But there’s something else.
Amidst the fear and regret, anticipation. A longing so deep it bleeds.
I attend the reunion. Despite the fact it’s a breakfast. And I’m not a morning person. And there’s not a drop of alcohol in sight.
What I don’t expect is this – no one really cares!
They’ve moved on. We all have. Important jobs. Partners. Kids. Lives. We’ve all matured. Found our own ways of dealing with the world.
I thought I was going for closure. Instead, what I found was a circle of beautiful people who still want to know me, despite
the fact I was an idiot in school our wildly divergent paths.
Will we be best friends again? It’s unlikely. We live on opposite sides of the river, for a start.
Still. There’s a bridge on which to travel now. An open door at the end of it.
And love. Lots and lots of love.
(Okay. Maybe not that much… 🙂 )
Who were you in high school? Would you go to a reunion?