As more and more people from high school add me on Facebook, I'm struck by how much we've all changed, or at least by how much I have.
Most of the people I ran with are married with a baby or two or three or six. Most of them also stayed in state, some even in, as the Dixie Chicks put it, "the same zip code where their parents live."
While they were all doing that, I was out trying to see how many states I could live in, how fast I could move up the journalism ladder, how far away from all of them I could get.
(For the record, I've lived in five states since then, gotten to an almost mid-major paper -- 85K on Sundays, and gotten about 2000 miles away.)
Looking at their profiles, I've realized that me now would probably not be friends with the people she was friends with in school. They're far too stable and mature. I'd be much more likely to run around with the other crowd. Somewhere along the way, I digressed from my responsible high school self.
The boy that I thought was so cute back then . . . even with long hair, a beard and a guitar, isn't nearly as attractive as I remember. He's way too into his kids and his family and things that I just don't understand.
On one hand, I have this strong pull to go back. It's familiar, to a degree, it's safe, even if all I wanted to do was get the fuck out at the time.
On the other hand, I know better. I'm not that person anymore. I've changed. I'm not that nerd in the corner anymore. I'm still a nerd, but I'm not longer hiding in a corner.
In honor of my high school days, Dixie Chicks sing Long Way Round