This morning I had a friend request from a classmate from grade- and high-school. I'd seen Gary since then, at least once that I remember, at our 25-year high school reunion. It was good to see him, along with the couple other folks from our grade school who'd gone to the same high school. His friend request was a pleasant surprise, and I enjoyed strolling through his friends list to see other familiar folks, many of whom I haven't laid eyes on in 35 years. Among them was my first crush, with whom I share a birthday, along with my closest friend from my junior high years and a number of other people it might be nice to say "hi" to after all these decades.
The thing is, back then, I was pretty much an outcast - I mean, there was only one of these folks I ever really thought of as a friend. I know, now, that this wasn't their fault. I'm sure most of them would be somewhat glad to hear from me now, in a "blast from the past, glad we made it" sort of sense. And I'm not the social misfit now that I was then.
Yet, I feel lonelier than ever, as if the mere act of reaching out to these once-familiar strangers and saying, "Hi. How are you?" with no intention of acknowledging my interim history, would be disingenuous. Maybe that'd balance differently for me if I hadn't just learned of my late MIL's lifelong feelings, but that may be just as well. In truth, I still feel somewhat the same about every reconnection I've made since then.
I'm sure many of us have had our demons to battle. "The brighter the light, the darker the shadow," as Fr. Dave quoted Carl Jung a few weeks ago, and that's certainly been true for me. The darkness I've lived since they knew me is the reason I probably won't FB friend anyone from my childhood, even though I've long since emerged from it.
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