Went to my high school reunion last night. For most of these people, I'd not seen them in decades. I haven't missed most of them either -- nor have they missed me. On countless faces, I saw the look of "who is that guy?" and it's not just because I've grown a beard since then. I was a face in the hallway for dozens of these people -- mostly the girls, for whom I was neither popular enough to care about nor good looking enough to go out of their way to know. I felt a little puerile not speaking with some of them this weekend. After all, it's been many years. But I hadn't liked their type then and if for only one night, they were those kids I didn't like all over again.
Some of my old friends had forgotten things or conveniently decided not to let them back into a conversation. That's fine. I understand. Many of us remember where the land mines are placed. And not every person believes an experience is for learning.
But things were still different. I'm a happily married man who doesn't need the approval of my classmates. And some of the kids I had secretly detested were nice, upstanding parents now. We had conversations. No promises of keeping in touch or anything fake like that. Just being friendly. Like someone I'd meet at the train station. And when my stop arrives, I'll do what I have to do and move along.
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