HAGS

Facebook was useful; it showed me exactly what I did not want to know. I followed everyone from my past, but only to avoid truly actually interacting with them.

Mentally I knew that the reunion was coming up. Doing the math was easy, For I knew how long ago I graduated high school. That by no means meant that I was excited. I was not one of those that dreamed of reliving the glory days, if any one peaked in high school they had failed at life. How sad would it be to hit your best at eighteen. You are giving up on life before it fully begins.

I believed in looking ahead, finding now ways to succeed before the limited lifespan we are given ends. Why should I ever believe that I would reach my best when there is so much more that I could accomplish.

I made up my mind before even graduating that cursed place. No need to change my mind now. I would not be going to my high school reunion.

I know what your argument is going to be, "wouldn't it be nice to see my friends again?"

But if they were really my friends I would still be talking to them. I wouldn't need the reunion to see them. I keep in touch with the few that mattered, but no one else tried to keep me in their lives.

I was not the only one that decided to live my own life. We all went our separate ways. Never once did I hear from any of them since graduation. If they wanted to talk, they would have reached out before the mandatory reunion.

You say it would be nice to travel down memory road, to think about the good times. But why should I live in the past? They might have been my friends at one point, but that was merely because we were imprisoned within the same educational institution. Friendships of opportunity that faded once we found a better world.

Reflection does not need to happen in a social setting. I could still laugh at the inside jokes that were once shared, I could still smile with the thought of some of those moments. I don't need the help of people I haven't spoken to in order to achieve that feat.

I don't need the fake smiles, and everyone pretending  to care. We should all be honest, no one cares what anyone else is up to. Everyone is so lost in their own life, that no one even thinks of another soul. Going through a whole night of lies is a torture that I will not be subjecting myself too.

You could argue all you want, but nothing will change. My mind is made up. If you think it's such a great idea, you could go yourself, they were your classmates too.

Yet I found myself stalking the planning committee on Facebook. Seeing the plans that I would be missing. There was a small piece that hoped that they would reach out to me. The hope of inclusion, the desire to matter.

Unwilling to accept what I had known to be true since the beginning, I was forgotten in their eyes. They failed to remember the classes that we shared, the memories that had united us, for I was not even added to the group. No invitation for the reunion came my way. I have no reason to go where I am not wanted.

In the quiet of the night I found myself opening up the old yearbooks. My eyes ran over the signatures. You could always tell where you stood with people when they signed your book. Some of the messages were heartfelt, knowing that we would see each other next school but being so insignificant that they promise not to forget you over the summer of separation.

Clearly the summer was long enough to forget someone. For after the summer of senior year, I had never heard from any one again. That was fine by me, for I was better off without them. I only needed to remember myself.

Paragraphs are filled with insides jokes, proving to any else that there was a strong friendship. All of it has become nonsense, but at one point it was ever so important.

I wondered if I repeated the jokes that I remembered so well if they would have any recognition today. It would probably convince themselves that they made the right decision of pushing me out of their life. For who wants to keep in touch with the person that would remind of the prison of high school.

Most of the signatures ended the same way. Have a Great Summer. Wishing someone the best, not caring about anything in their life.

That was all that we were willing to offer. The vagueness seems comforting at the time, but in reality it is created by the fact that one does not care enough to say anything that is true.

The worst signatures were the ones that merely scribbled HAGS. They tried to convey the feeling of positive wishes for the summer, but were too lazy to even write out the words: have a great summer. Opting for HAGS, as if that even mattered.

I closed the yearbook. Needing a way to get rid of them, for I have no reason to be reminded of the prison of illusion that pretended to be my education. I was calmed by the fact that I was never going to see those people again. There would be no reunion for me. No one from that time when I was a teen had anything to offer.

I knew my life was successful, books published, a nice family that I am proud of, I have no reason to brag about my accomplishments to people that don't matter. After all that is what Facebook is for, so  there will be no reunion for me.

I looked at the posts of people faking excitement for the reunion. Silently I wished them all to have a great summer, and then I deleted the Facebook app off of my phone. I was never going to think of any of them again.