I'm not sure why I want to go, honestly. I don't know too many of my friends from then that are going (though there are a few that will be there). And, while I had quite a few friends, I'm not sure if many people would really remember me. I was pretty quiet when I was outside my group. So there's the part of me that's convinced that, if I did go, I would be mostly sitting at a table, not really talking with anyone, and wondering why I spent the money to fly to Florida and pay for the dinner.
But then again, it's been 20 years. 20 years was a lifetime ago. 20 years ago were the years of pegged pants and large earrings. The years of 90210 and listening to "Love Shack". The me then was both braver and more afraid than the me of now. It was a time when we didn't realize what life was really handing us, and getting upset or worried about things that we probably don't remember now. I'm not who I was then, and neither is anyone else. So many of us have kids - some brand new babies, some having entered college. We've lived through love and loss like we never could have imagined at 18. And that gives you a fresh perspective on things.
If I were able to go, I may have surprised myself. I may have fallen into deep conversation with someone that I only knew to say hi to. Or I may have reconnected with friends that I hadn't known were coming. Or... yes, I may have sat in the corner and wondered why I was there. But maybe not. And it's the maybe nots that keep me going.
They're planning a 25 year reunion in 5 years. And I'm going to make it a point to go to that one. I'm going to save my pennies and buck up my courage. And I'm going to live this experience, because I'm already regretting not living this one.
|Amber in 1992|
|Amber in 2012|
What a difference 20 years makes.