Before last weekend I had never been to a high school class reunion. (We did have one for the entire school after it closed -- Catholic, small -- and I went to that.) I just didn't have that many good experiences that I wanted to remember.
Or so I thought.
Friday and Saturday I had such a good time with the 17 other classmates who went to the reunion -- and their spouses. (Our class only had 58 people, and 5 have died.) I'm so glad I went. One of the reasons I didn't want to go before is that I didn't want to see the Mean Girls. We only had 3. One of them was planning to go (she even paid the $50) but didn't show up. My theory is that since none of her gang said they were going (even those who weren't mean) she was too much of a coward to show up by herself. Good! I know that's mean but -- f'ing good!
The Best Friend and I went together. Not even one person asked about that. Kinda weird, but maybe they're talking amongst themselves. Doesn't matter. I hadn't thought about this before but we hadn't had a picture taken together since 1976. It was a yearbook picture and we're "sneakily" whispering to each other. In the one picture that was taken Friday night, yes, we are "sneakily" whispering to each other. Just not as sneakily this time.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I was pretty angry with him. I'm over that and just back to being confused. I'm not confused about how I feel about him. I'm confused about how he feels about me. I suppose I could ask him, but I'm kind of afraid of the answer.
