About 2 years ago I was in the local supermarket with my mother and some female (also with a woman i assume was her mother less she’s turned out to be attracted to much older women) came up to me, (disturbing me while I was trying to pick the chocolate I wanted) and started carrying on (very much over the top I might add)…. she was waffling on about ohhhhhhhhh we went to school together I haven’t seen you for AGESSS, I replied yup we did and kept browsing. Then she goes one further we should sooooo get together and have coffee one day and catch up.. to which I replied…. we had nothing in common in high school, we never had anything to say to each other, you were up yourself and I’m sure nothing has changed so I have nothing to say to you now.

Upon hearing this my mother opened her mouth and told me that wasn’t very nice and the girl went on to tell me how things change out of high school and I just stated very clearly look I hated the way you acted then and I see no reason why I should start a friendship with you now unless all your other friends have realised what a selfish pretentious person you truly are now let me pick a chocolate so I can go home.

Suffice to say I have NO interest in relieving the so called glory days of high school with people who bored me immensely with their incessant and puerile conversations…. people who were so shallow they made the local sandbar look deep.. not even the chance to possibly usurp one of these precious little princesses has me eager to re join what is essentially a group of incestuous back stabbing trying to keep up with the Jones’s can’t wear the same thing twice, look down your nose at anyone who isn’t in what you deem the latest fashion or listening to ‘cool’ music ‘in group’. I live in a smallish town, everyone knows what everyone is up too, so I know many of these people have not changed at all in their perceptions of what is important and what isn’t, I know they are still the superficial and elitist people they were when we were forced to co-exist on a school bus and then for 7 hours a day at school.

What’s the point of these things? Can you really have something in common with people you may not have talked to for 20 years (or at least since the last reunion)? And of course they say people change, but do I really want these people in my life… after all they have already been part of it and it really wasn’t a success, and I have not changed all that much in my beliefs, my opinions, my thoughts, my outlook….. I’m still somewhat ‘different; in my approach to life, my interests, and various other things.

Last month, an ex-classmate called to invite me for another class reunion. As usual, I said yes and even made some suggestions, which she interpreted as a positive sign.

Barely a week before the big day I was still vacillating between going and staying away. two days before the event, I hedged and warned her that I would be likely tied up on the same day (”of course I’ll try my best to show up, but I’m not promising anything, mind”), but for the life of me, I couldn’t quite make up my mind whether I really wanted to go or not. Just like the last few times. (Procrastination — ain’t it great?)

Postponing the inevitable didn’t help either because in my case, “maybe” usually translates to “I don’t think so”.

I don’t know. I guess I’m just one of those crass souls who prefer to let the past stay where it is. (Before you jump to hasty conclusions though, let me assure you that I don’t subscribe to the idea of totally cutting oneself off from the past. I don’t think I’d want to.)

At the risk of sounding like a cantankerous fidget, my point is that I’d prefer to preserve the past as it was — uncolored, unedited and untouched by anything that has happened since then.

And far from wanting to forget that period of my life, I’d like to state for the record that I treasure those days, along with the angst, pain, triumphs, anticipation, laughter, and anxieties that go with them. if I could, I’d like to keep those days intact — the way we looked, the way things were, the way we acted (foolish, earnest, carefree, hopeful), dressed, hankered over our respective crushes, raved about our pop favorites, and agonized over our looks.

Basically, I have this horrid fear that if I go back and hear people rehashing those events (as they almost always do, during reunions), I might realize that things were not as good as I thought they were. Or that they may not measure up to what I’ve kept in my memories throughout the years. Not even the prospect of seeing my old crush — who, for all I know, may already be sporting a beard or a beer belly — could surmount my reluctance.

Sounds illogical and ridiculously selfish? Perhaps. But if memories are all that’s left to me (of those days), indulge me in my childish folly. I’d like to believe that some things remain perfect (with all their imperfections), unblemished by time and space, no matter how old I get.