So much for a special hundredth entry.

I see you never.

That was the most common line I used in everything I wrote in yearbooks during my senior year in high school. I really disliked my high school experience. Yes, I could confirm the fact that high school was better (somewhat) than middle school, but the same isolation and loneliness remained. Although I had a number of friends by the end of high school, I could only consider one as a true friend. And as for acquaitances...I barely had any. My social anxiety made sure of that.

It seems way too strange and awkward how I always moan and groan about high school. How I thought that it was horrorific, but then I am never quite sure. How can something exacerbate a subject as this was the reunion that I decided to attend. It was the reunion of all the honors/advanced math people that I had class with for more than four years.

I think it was my fault for choosing to go, because my curiousity took over my rationality which would have known ahead of time that my social anxiety would always dominate in this type of social situation. So thus, I drove over to my math teacher's house hoping to see someone I would "recognize" when I would arrive. That is...someone that was a psuedo-acquaintance...someone who I felt comfortable small talking with. Unfortunately nobody.
As ridiculous as it may sound, I began overanalyzing the situation and letting those insane feelings of isolation come back. Then I even somehow prevented any social interaction by beginning to float around the refreshment table. Walking to the house was a bad start. Outside, I had saw Amy Judy, who had been in my math class for three consecutive years. I never talked to her and she never talked to me. Funny, she gave me a look that showed that she didn't recognize me.
Inside, I saw Kathryn and Julie chatting together. John off to the side. Alene sitting on the other. It was getting mildly depressing now. I sat down on a chair close to Alene. Alene embraced Amy. I hadn't said a single word to anybody.

On my graduation day, I had promised myself that I wouldn't see anybody from my class again. I had been mildly successful. I had seen Julie occasionally in CAL, but that hadn't really mattered to me. In CAL, I had made the most friends that I had ever had before in my life. People who I could trust. Furthermore, the environment of strangers was more comfortable to me than an environment of recognition. Yesterday, I remember complaining to Anthony about how much I disliked being in high school. He agreed.

I praised the selection of food. Mrs. Hoffman seemed pleased. Yet I felt very awkward floating around the refreshment table...yet I was very reluctant to return to the living room where the other people were sitting. That would be isolation in the worst form. I had been with these people for more than four years and they barely knew who I was.

Suddenly the front entrance was empty. I decided to bolt. I opened the door and nearly tripped over the front step. Sumi and Kathleen were coming up the drive. I gave a cheery hi and began moving toward my car. Nonetheless, Mr. Hoffman came out. Although I said that I had to go...he dragged me back in. "Just an hour...I just want to hear how school is doing."

Instead, I began crying. Inside, I turned away from everyone. Everybody seemed to be part of a book. A book that I wanted to throw away. Almost like Calvin and Phoebe. To throw into an ocean forming a parabolic curve...then having to find the speed and the velocity at time=3 seconds. But no...I was forced back in.
Suddenly Jon Hill came in. Mr. Hoffman tried to introduce him to me. I remember working with him in a partner project in Spanish III. He seemed quite annoyed at that time and had that look that said I don't want to be here...not with her. He had that look now. I hope I never will see that look again.
Mrs. Hoffman took pity and let me accompany her to the back room where we sat a bit. It was strange though. Deborah, Mr. Hoffman's daughter, came along.
"This is Jennifer," Mrs. Hoffman said.
"Oh yes, you're Deborah. You were in my Calc AB class." I smiled despite a looming cloud that had desperately gripped me.
She gave me a look of non-recognition. I remembered sitting about three seats behind her two years ago. So much for being unique.
She decided to show me her pet turtle and we sat in her room for about twenty minutes. Then she walked me to my car.

I have to thank the Hoffmans though for being at least partial to my behavior.

Supposedly Kristen Kamrath said at the reunion, "I don't know these people anymore. I don't like these people."

In my own view, I never liked these people. I never knew these people. They never liked me. They never knew me. So much for showing them how much I have changed. The past haunts me. It was more of the fact that I have been in class for four years with these same people and I have barely bonded with them. I barely spoke in those classes. I barely made a move to show my skill in front of the class. I even barely talked to the teachers. I don't want to be pitied.

I can't wait to return to college.

I see them never.