This weekend is my high school’s 20 year reunion, and I’m not going.
Yep. That’s how I feel.
The irony is that I’m probably the reason they’re going to have a reunion in the first place. For a long time, I thought my class had a 10 year reunion and just didn’t invite me. I asked around on Facebook about any plans, and I was assured that we just didn’t have a 10 year because class leadership flaked. Part of me really wants to believe that, but the way people have treated me during planning makes me think that maybe she’s just being nice.
I loved school, but the social side of it always sucked for me. I didn’t have a concentration camp or starvation childhood, but it wasn’t great either. I hate going back to that town in general. Too many memories. I spent most of this week in a very dark place, thinking about my brother and lots of painful stuff that I tried to block out but just kept looping in my head. That might be the tipping point, because this week I just don’t know that I’d be good company having to go back to that terrible town.
I was the class Valedictorian, and hated and vilified the way nerds sometimes are. I was socially and physically bullied from Kindergarten through 12th Grade. I didn’t go to prom because I wasn’t allowed. I drove by in my Little Caesar’s uniform to say hey to my friends in their pretty dresses and pine for the one chance I’d have to wear a formal gown to a spiffy party. (Weddings don’t count, and I never have and probably never will get to wear a formal gown anywhere ever.) I had very little freedom before I was 16, and since I skipped a grade, that was really only a year of having any kind of ability to socialize even remotely, not that anyone but my boyfriend ever wanted me around.
I know for a fact (because it’s been hinted at in not very subtle fashion) that there are a few people can’t wait to see me and gloat over what a failure I am. I’m so not a failure, but I am also not about that Romy and Michelle crap, either. I have a good friend who felt it imperative that she be the “hottest” person at her reunion, and I think that’s a typical reaction to these types of events and I’m trying to cut stress and toxicity out of my life. I have very little relationship with most of these people, and don’t really want to try and recreate connections that I’m pretty sure never existed. I’ve already blocked quite a few on Facebook due to some real nastiness.
Maybe all of this sounds like Poor Me, but I really don’t feel sorry for myself at all. I did have some friends, but most of them in Band, and not in my grade. (If it were a Band reunion, I’d be there in a heartbeat.) There are a few people from my class I’d really like to see, but mostly those people aren’t going, either.
Maybe it sounds bitter. That is probably closer to accurate, but I don’t get people who want to relive those days. If school was your life’s glory time, then I really feel like you might be living life wrong. Or maybe I’m just unkind and high school can be a wonderful place and John Hughes’ The Breakfast Club is actually a good movie.
On Saturday, I’m going to enjoy a much better option. I won’t sit at home and mope or ruminate about how I made the wrong choice. I’m going to an Inklings meeting with people I do know and love, and maybe some people I don’t know yet, but even there, we’ll be talking about topics I relate to (literature, gaming, parenting, music, science!) rather than dick-sizing about who is most successful. Plus, I really loved The Lies of Locke Lamora and can’t wait to talk to other people who did, too!