Thursday, February 11, 2010

High School Yearbook

So, recently I stumbled upon one of my high school yearbooks, this one from my senior year, and last night I spent some time looking at it. Oh it was all there, the faces, the captions, the names, and the thing that really got me was the signatures. Even though my high school was rather new when I attended and lacked a lot of the traditions that high schools often have, we did have that time honored tradition of signing yearbooks. I mean, we didn't like all gather under the big old oak tree like we were in Lake Wobegon or something, but we did sign and write things.
So that is what I was reading, and about a million and a half thoughts and an equal number of memories came rushing back as if I were standing in the middle of a herd of subway trains, just rushing by in a whir of lights and wind and noise. So that is what it was like. I was reading some of the thoughts and comments that people had written and I sort of had to laugh. I am not doubting the sincerity of the nice things that people were writing, I completely believe in that, but it was sort of amusing to me to hear the grandiose thoughts of 18-year-olds who saw everything ahead of them. It was kind of nice to not have that sort of jaded real worldness to the whole thing. I have to say. And of course we all predicted wonderful things for one another, no one ever says "You are going to make a wonderful inmate when you grow up." Of course not. But it is all ahead of you then and it is all going to be good. And I hope it has been good for everyone.
That being said, it sort of made me just a little bit sad. I am sad because those feelings of admiration and gratitude and love were genuine, and we all had the best of intentions, but for the most part those people are gone from my life, off living their own and doing whatever it is that they do. You wonder where they are and what they are doing. You wonder what happened to those relationships we had all that time back then. You just wonder, and that wonder seems to come with a small twinge of longing and wonder. I guess that I am just not explaining it right. I am not saying that I wish I were still in high school, no not at all. But I guess that I am sort of longing for whatever is represented by those words scribbled in silver and black and blue on page after page of yearbook. I don't know. It was good while it lasted but you always wonder why it didn't last. At least I do. Oh well, let's put away the yearbook until we happen to find it again. Then I can relive the whole thing again.

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