High School Reunion Reply

{We here at elevendy twelven like to look forward, not back. So continuing our tradition of awkward, yet creative, randomness, we will not be attending our high school reunion. Scrupe!}

Mr. Reunion Organizer,

I've sent back the sheet you wanted me to fill out. Thanks for sending it my way.

I have to say that, surprisingly, I found your email incredibly refreshing. I think was expecting some sort of themed email when this time came. A kind of overly glossified correspondence reminding me to "party like it's 1999" again, or break out my Lee jeans and King Soopers belt. But not you. You were Succinct. A kind of anorexic message showing no fat whatsoever. Even the lack of a salutation--something like a 'Thank you' or 'Talk to you soon'--made me feel so, well, painfully welcome to this whole project. Thanks. Honestly, it was a great email to receive.

I must warn you that my "help" in this project will be incredibly limited. You see, over the last five years or so I've become a recluse of sorts. The human affairs of danger and dignity--those instances that transpire through and across the lives of each and everyone--have left me emotionally obese; have scarred the face of my confidence in repugnant ways; and have resulted in moral disfigurement. In short, I live in New York.

Actually, my mind and face melted into an ooze of disbelief when I saw you on the 1 train not more then seven months ago. Or was it the A? Either way, there you where, reading a book, propped up against the subway door (just like they tell you not to)--seemingly as yourself as you ever where. Actually, there is still a seed of doubt in my mind as to whether or not it was you, and you may confirm that seed bursting into a flower of mistaken identity, but as I stole looks at this person from across the way, I convinced myself that it was you. Probably studying at Columbia, furthering your education--or maybe even teaching out here as I remember you had a penchant for foreign languages. Either way, it made my night--the constant guessing, the wondering what you were up to. So if it was you or not, thanks. I appreciate it. Because I remember when I used to think (silently and aloud) that you would be a great toothpaste model. Geeze, I was an asshole. Maybe still am. But I said that in reference to your great and infectious smile--the one aspect of you I do and will always remember. So if you took, or take, offense to that cavity-fighting line of thinking, please know that it comes from a genuine place of endearment and nostalgia.

Upon reading your email for the up-teenth time, I realize that maybe you too are not exactly super excited about putting this together. But if you imagine me saluting you right now, with a face of pride and admiration, you would get a fairly accurate picture of me this instant, as we type. The only difference is that I'm not sure if you're imagining me sitting or standing. Know that I'm sitting right now, but will be standing later--so I guess either works.

In summation:
Will I attend the reunion? Um, no. The only reason I would like to attend would be to you see you and gauge the uneasiness this email may have created between us. But you know what: it's better then nothing--which is what we had before this email.

Will I help? Sources say "not all that much." If you need small donations or something of that sort, I can probably throw those your way. But if you're looking for someone to do mass emailing or sleuthing, you'll have a hard time hearing back from me. In situations like that I use snail mail. Actually, I have a facebook group called "Letter Writers Unite!" We write each other constantly but meet online every second Thursday of each month. It's fun. And redundant. Check us out.

I hope all is well with you. I really do. And thank you for involving me in this process. It doesn't look like I'll be doing much, but I do appreciate the correspondence.

Explosively yours,

selfstonishment