My sister and her family have flown in from Lala-land this weekend and are in my old hometown. I don't get to see her very often, so I drove up to spend some time.

It is my sister's 20th High School Class Reunion. My sister, always glamorous and her year's 'Most Individualistic', helped organize the reunion events, which began in the middle of last week. People have flown in from all over the country and out of a total class of about 120, over 100 people have shown up. My sister has been filling us in with all the news. "It was so good to see so-and-so. I didn't recognize him at all -- until he smiled. He was so shy in high school, and now he's really blossomed."

I can't help but think about or compare. Being that I was the town fag, living here was a daily humiliation that I longed to escape. I wasn't completely friend-less, but of the few friendships I ever had, even fewer survived the jump away.

Time Heals All Wounds... or does it? I didn't come back for years, and when I did, a tentative few days here and there, I thought Things aren't as bad as I thought. My memory, purposefully no doubt, but succesfully, had begun to erase. When my mom or oldest friend would drop names, I no longer remembered who they were. Was I bringing 'closure' to my past? Had I Moved On and Lived Positively In The Now?

Two years out from Graduation Launch, I sat with two friends at the Police Concert, Synchronicity Tour. My one friend scowled and said, "Isn't that so-and-so?" There, a few rows over, were some of the popular girls from my class. They had gained weight -- a LOT of weight. Hah! I thought to myself. Visions of vengeful class reunions danced in my head. Maybe one day I WILL attend a class reunion.

Three years ago this same weekend, my sister and I flew in for a funeral and we walked down town. There is an alumni open-house at the town hall. "Let's go," said my sister. Looking around and not seeing anyone in my generation, I agreed. Besides, I bet I look pretty good for my age, I thought to myself.

Almost immediately my sister walked up to a group of women, smiling gracefully, relaxed, "Hello," she said, "You guys look familiar to me. I'm so-and-so."

"We went to school with your brother. Is he here?" It didn't matter they hadn't recognized me and I was standing right there: A numb sensation swept over me, and I felt my chest tighten.

"I'm so and so," the blond person closest to me stuck out her hand, and in that way where you clutch the end of her fingers to shake. I recognized her as a childhood tormentor and she was very obviously scanning me up and down. My hawaiian shirt, my baggy khakis, my patent leather sneakers, so not in keeping with the LL Bean Lands End Preppy Handbook community uniform. Another woman was motioning wildly to someone else behind me, "Psst! Come here! Now!" I turned to see who it was -- another woman I didn't recognize. Surrounded, I was in the middle of a cold sweat. It was all coming back to me.

"I'm going outside." I interrupted my sister, her eyes glazed in the middle of smalltalk. "I'm going outside NOW." and I bolted, almost literally. Behind me, I heard a burst of laughter.

There was no reason for me to react that way.