The Past in 3-D

As most of you probably know, I moved back to my hometown a year and a half ago. The Big Lake called and I answered. I'm thrilled to be here, and I can say without any exaggeration that I positively ADORE living here. Nothing makes me happier than being in this place, right now.

One thing that skeeves me out, however, is seeing ghosts from my past. I went to the same school my entire life, and when I see people from high school who I haven't seen since playing basketball in the gym with them during our post-graduation senior lock-in, something strange happens. I get freaked out. I pretend to not see them, though I can't help but look and, dare I say, scrutinize. Some people who I have seen, such as Chris H., have been incredibly friendly and quite the pleasure to briefly catch up with. I see others, however, and I am stunned to realize that I am feeling tension that is ten years old, hostility wrought by a shared history that amounts to very little. How do I see a guy who I first met in preschool and today all I can think of is what an asshole jock he was? I certainly wouldn't want my high school classmates to see me today and judge me based on my overdramatics as an 18-year-old amped up on hormones.

It's tough to get past. Amidst all the stupidity, I see friends I am thrilled to reaquaint with; I'll be getting together with one of my best, long-lost high school friends tomorrow. She has a husband and a baby, and I'm quite curious to hear about how she was able to solve that life secret that has easily eluded me these years.

I'm sure that, as we're meeting over hot coffee and smiling at her baby, the subject of our ten year class reunion will come up. She'll want to know if I'm planning on going, and despite all of my strange misgivings, I know I'll say yes.