Sad smiles for good times.
It has been 10 years since I graduated from high school. It feels like 20.
For the last several months, I’ve been expecting a reunion of some sort with my high school class. Doesn’t seem it will happen. This year, anyway. Quite sad, really. I was looking forward to a grand nostalgia trip and maybe a few surprises. You know, finding out who’s already married. Who has been sleeping with whom. Who has become insanely successful. Who has let themselves go. I haven’t seen most of my class since graduation day, and I guess I’ll just have to rely on social networking websites to keep me updated on their lives. As for the nostalgia trip, I’ve turned to my trusty yearbook to bring back my lovely and awkward high school memories.
Seeing all the horrid ID pictures again is an interesting experience. I feel like every face I see is that of a stranger, and yet when I see them, memories flash through my mind like a weird Catholic school slideshow. I remember conversations, laughter, and smiles. Not vividly, though. Just like a dream.
Teachers and classmates, how I remember most of them is how they appear in the yearbook pictures. I remember them as they were 10 years ago. It’s a sad feeling, really. It all seems so far away, so long ago. You know that feeling when you were a child and you were looking at your parents’ pictures when they were young? You felt like those pictures were taken eons ago, right? That’s how I feel whenever I open our yearbook.
It’s not a sad feeling. Well, not entirely. I smile as I look at the pictures. I smile as I remember the day those pictures were taken. I smile as I recognize each name like I’ve just recovered from a wicked amnesia. I smile as I associate certain memories and emotions to each and every photograph. Sad smiles for good times.
It has been 10 years. 10 years since I stepped up and cemented my legacy as one of the leaders of our class. 10 years since I first tasted the bittersweetness of falling in love. 10 years since I set my heart aflame with the fire of rebellion. 10 years since I disappointed as many people as I made proud. 10 years since I said farewell to 4 of the best years of my life. 10 frickin’ years.
It feels like 20.
RELATED POSTS:- No related posts
July 30th, 2010 at 1:27 am
Great stuff here.