It had been sitting on my shelf for two decades without my opening it. Suddenly I got the urge.
First I was WAY handsomer than I ever thought at the time. Reading my classmates’ notes to me brought back so many nostalgic feelings. High school was a fun and cool time. I suddenly became popular when, in the summer after 10th grade, I got contact lenses, a short, neat haircut, and shaved my scraggly mustache. No one recognized me when I started 11th grade, and, after that, I got noticed and became popular. I went from perceived weirdo to center of attention, and I blossomed. I made so many friends because I was friendly—and as weird as that sounds—kids not in the central groups loved me because I acknowledged them. Kids who started at our high school in the middle of the four years were thankful that I served as a bridge to the rest of the students. I had honestly forgotten all of this until reading the yearbook notes. I wasn’t out, of course, and that was the invisible barrier between me and everyone else. I’ve only stayed in touch with two of my high school friends—and just barely, losing touch as time marches on. I’m on a Facebook page with my classmates, and it’s sad to see some dying. What’s worse is I don’t remember many of them!
I googled the guys who were considered the dreamiest in high school. Yikes! Time can be cruel, especially to straight men. Thankfully I still look 20!