Irony in the air: You say goodbye, and I say hello

There’s irony in the air tonight—at exactly the same moment that I’m saying goodbye to my grad school family, I’m saying hello to my high school family. This weekend is my ten-year high school class reunion. Thus I said my first goodbye to the Exeter Class of 2001 ten years ago, almost to the date. Looking back, I struggled with that goodbye as well. I remember being the sodden mess (the one I expected to be last night) the night of our senior party. I remember listening to that damn Vitamin C song about graduation and “friends forever” in my car every day of the summer and crying every time. I remember feeling like I’d never find another group of friends, that I’d never love anyone like I loved my classmates. And actually, pieces of that worry came true, I suppose…I did not and can never “replace” my high school friends. They are unique, and awesome, and the friendships that you make in high school—especially a tiny rural school like the one I went to, where most of us were together every day from kindergarten to senior year—are precious for a lifetime. However, continuing to love my high school friends did not have the catastrophic effect that I’d expected at the time: that I would never have other friends that meant as much to me. The truth is that I did make new friends, in time. I did find other places and other groups with which I belonged. I need to tuck that fact into my mind and let it breathe hope into me, because I’m struggling with the very same set of worries today, only this time it’s because my grad school friends are leaving. Ah, it’s funny how history repeats itself. It’s also funny how even when know we have changed and grown, in times of stress we default to the same old set of insecurities.

As recently as a few short months ago, I might have looked back and scoffed at myself for being so “dramatic” about the way I handled my high school ending. I would have probably thought something like, Oh, well, you’re just a lot better at emotional regulation now than you were ten years ago. Now, though, I’m not so sure that what I did back then was overly dramatic or “wrong” or “immature.” I was definitely not blunting any emotion or avoiding anything; I was merely feeling what I needed to feel in the moment and coping with that in the best way I knew how. I’m doing much the same thing now, in different ways. Is my emotional regulation or my coping any better or any worse now, really? I honestly don’t know the answer to that.

This all being said, what I’m ready for is a weekend of fun with my high school friends. I fully expect to cry at some point over the weekend; after all, we’re all going to have to say “goodbye” again at the end of it. (Have you figured out by now that I’m not very fond of endings?) But mostly, I expect to greet, eat, drink, dance, and be merry. I’m gonna see that irony in the air and laugh my way right through it.