I just finished moving. I hate moving, but it was a good move. I really like my new place. When you move you pack and unpack a lot of things. You throw things out, and buy new things. You find things.
I am not one for talking over things past. I don’t get nostalgic for the good ol’ days. I found some things in the move. I found my class ring that my parents gave me from when I graduated high school. It was a good gift and meant a lot to me when it was given. Its still one of the most meaningful things I have ever been given. I also found my Senior Year book.
I haven’t looked at this thing in years. This sacrosanct tome of memories of things past has since infected my consciousness. The second I opened it the memories came flooding back. What hit me the hardest was the signatures and phrases people wrote to me. People that I knew well, and people that I hardly knew. People I loved and respected and people I quite frankly, people I didn’t.
My senior year was a tumultuous one. I had a lot of problems. I had a lot of anger. Towards the end I had a good time of it though. I have very good memory of times gaming with friends, nights spent with my lovely girlfriend, and contributions I made to my school.
It’s the memories that keep circling my mind. Fights I had, friends I made. The women I was with, and the women I regret never trying for. I struck me as odd that I have not kept in touch with anyone from those days. I am feeling a loss at the fact that these people. Yes I fell out of touch with them and never really tried to reestablish it. Yes I made that as a conscious choice in some of these cases as these people weren’t desirable friends. Those that I would have wanted to stay in touch with also didn’t try very hard to keep in touch with me.
Facebook has helped a little. I am ‘friends’ with some people that were in high school with me.
So to all those that may read this, and were my friends in that time I say this; Thank you. I have warm memories of you all and miss the good times we have had together. I remember holding my trumpet and cheering as we placed first at a key competition. I remember kissing a pretty girl behind the bleachers. I remember having my first drink in the auditorium during a concert. And yes, no need to ask, I remember you. Thank you for that.