I have a class reunion this year.
You’re waiting for me to say something witty or contemplative, aren’t you?
Okay . . .
Nope. I’ve got nothing.
I grew up in the rural community I live in now. I went to school for 13 years with the same people. Some of them very, very nice. Some of them not so much. I won’t name names. You know who you are.
Our first two class reunions were fine. Our third was . . . exhausting. (Please see all this week’s posts on introversion.) There was a lot of posturing I found unnecessary at this point in our lives. Frankly, it was confusing after getting through two class reunions without a problem.
So now it’s reunion year again this year and I am torn. Do I pay to have dinner with people who made me feel bad five years ago? Was that just a fluke? Was I in a mood? I don’t know. We are leaving on vacation the next day. Is that inconvenient or an excuse?
I think I will go to the picnic and call it good.
Nobody needs to remind you that you threw up in second grade when you are 43.
Or, worse, yet, the girl who likes to remind me that I made her cry on her first day of her new high school. Yep, that was me. Many, many years ago. I made an impassioned speech about cliques and she was offended because she got along with everyone.
Please. I am sorry. Please. Move on with your life.