Twenty-year high school reunion. I saw it on Facebook. I saw the head cheerleader and her clan making announcements and planning this shindig.
Burning Bridges
I was on the link and read the conversations, and all I could think of was … I don’t want to see these people. Ex-boyfriends, cheerleaders, and drill team members planning a party. I thought, yeah … I’d rather be getting a root canal.
It wasn’t so much the conversation, but it was knowing that these people still think that phoniness is passable. I know they don’t want to see me. We weren’t really friends, we were barely acquaintances. I don’t hate any of them, but annoyance is enough for me to stay away. I mean I don’t even like running into these people at the mall.
I’m 38. I’ve got gray hair. I don’t have time for this stuff. If I didn’t like anybody back then, I probably won’t like them now. I mean some people may have A-HA moments and do a 360-change, but for the most part people are who they are.
And the truth is the people I actually do want to see are probably not going either. They’re smart. They’re not even on Facebook.
Burning bridges … sometimes this is a good thing.
