In a few short minutes, I will be in my car on my way back to Roanoke for the first time since January. The reason for this quick trip to the homeland? My ten-year high school reunion.
Now, before you chide me for participating in some sort of nostalgic nonsense, listen to why I'm going. First, I paid fifty dollars in the registration fee. That's not exactly money I can get back. Second, I made a promise to my oldest friend. And if I don't go, that would be going back on my word. And that's not what I'm about. Not now, not EVER!
And the Daytime Emmy goes to...
So I've got the pre-reunion jitters. I think I've come a long way in the last 10 years. I'm certainly not the person I was back in 1998. And I don't think of myself as 10 years older. I like to think of myself as 10 years more awesome.
But here's my fear: What if, when I get around these people who knew me in high school (or didn't know me for that matter), and I become that person again? Most of you don't know who I'm talking about. That person was the shy kid who sat in class, took his notes, never spoke up, and didn't get involved in anything. It's a persona that I shed once I got to college. Then I became (eventually) the person that I am today. I got out of my shell about midway through my freshman year. It's not a shell that I want to get back into. Even if it's for just one evening.
And what if she's there? You know who I'm talking about. That girl that the geeky kid had a crush on for four years but never had the stomach to do anything about it. I'm not saying I'd want to do anything about it now, but I don't think that would help in my not crawling back into my shell.
I guess before I go, I should just determine not to become that person. I should determine not to forget how to speak when confronted with the people who intimidated me 10 years ago. I'll be back tomorrow to let you know how it went.