Reunion

Tonight is my roommate reunion.

It's been a decade or so. Which is an astonishing length of time for me, since I lived with these women for four years and in that house for seven. And it's been eight since I left, five since I've been married. I've lived with the husband for much longer.

I can close my eyes and sort of remember being 22. It really is remarkable at how quickly you forget those days. DC is a challenging city for anyone. You are young, far from "home," you have to create friendships and live on $22,000 a year. You start from scratch when other friends from college are far away and immersed in serious relationships. You can't go home to your mom and dad on weekends. You move in with strangers, living intimately with them day to day, they see you at your best and at your worst. And you create these group house friendships that last for a little or maybe even a long while.

I have mixed emotions. Awkwardness. Discomfort, maybe. I don't know. I feel like I need a drink to take the edge off, and that reflects how I have changed since 22. It's been nearly 15 years to the day since I started my first job, and wow, oh how the years go by.

Maybe you are more authentically yourself at 22 than 37. Now there's a temptation to be at your best, dress your best, impress someones who don't need or care about that. But at 22, maybe this is all the more acute. You can hide in yourself more. You are more transparent at 37. You can't reveal everything, but your job/marriage/parenthood status is glaringly obvious. At 37, it isn't acceptable to be stuck in that rut. And we are coming from very different stages and phases, loves and lucks and tragedies.

So you enter into reunions with an open-mind, grateful for who you are and where you came from. And you know that this is all at face value, and then you turn away once again. Maybe meet up at 52? If we can be so lucky.