The Head Cheerleader's a Lesbo

It's what's floating around my noodle these past few days. The fear that's what they'll think. "They" being the entire Class of 1980. You see, this week is my 30th high school reunion. And while I've done some pretty darn groovie things in my life since we graduated--seems these parties only boil down to who you're married to, what size you are, and how big your house is. I went to the 10, the 15 and the 20. But I'm having a little bit of trouble committing to the 30. Maybe because I feel I have nothing new to report.

I'll be the first to say-- a hell of a lot has transpired in the past ten years--including a guy that I had hoped to bring to some kind of reunion. But as far as this crowd's concerned? Nada new. See, all that stuff the past ten years-- ended the same as they saw me last: single. So while I know they're not saying it...they're thinking it. She's never married. Our head cheerleader clearly is a lesbian. Doesn't matter that I look better than most of them--I don't have a ring and never bring a guy. Les and Bo. So...no go. Just don't feel like explaining. Besides--I don't quite know why I"m not married?

I stay in touch with the friends from high school that I want to see. Why do I need to see people who have chosen NOT to stay in my life? And at the same time--if I wanted to see them--I would have. (I hope you got that--if not, go back, please try again.) Yesterday I received a lovely thank you note from a friend who recently spent a weekend here. I also got three phone calls from old friends who always check in on me--we always catch up. All three made me feel so blessed and loved. I have -- and have always had--amazing friends. And I know that's a reflection on the kind of friend that I am. (See? Not a total debbie downer loss.)

I fear though, that lately the term "friend" means less than it used to. It's tossed around so much. I wish FaceBook had picked a different word for someone who chooses to read all the crap you write about yourself. Maybe "Lurking Pals" would have been a better choice? But not Friends. If you have kids--please teach them what a true "friend" is. It requires so much more effort--than a simple e-thumbs up. No one can possibly have 1,885 real friends.

After the second phone call from my friend who now lives in Houston--I started to think about Mr.PP--and how important it's been to me, that we remain friends. But for the first time--I asked myself--WHY? Sure, because when we were together--we were inseparable and had fun together--we were friends. But since he decided he wanted out, of the relationship and the friendship--why would I give him the benefit--no the honor--of being my friend?

Friends call you on your birthday. He didn't. Friends email you when you lose your job. He didn't. And when you're humiliated in the local paper by a crazy woman you used to manage--a friend writes a letter to the editor and says "your paper spreads lies." He didn't. (But his friend did.) I've spoken to him a few times recently. And I hear the words coming out of my mouth. "I want us to be friends." But what does that mean? Go have a sandwich now and then? Get together for a drink? (We don't.) Don't ban me from your Facebook profile? Or send my emails directly to the spam folder? (He does.) Can he possibly be the type of friend I call a FRIEND?

I have plenty of friends. So I think, maybe, I want him as the friend he used to be. And that can't happen. I miss him, so I convinced myself any part of him in my life is better than none? So "let's be friends!" Nope. Sitting on my lawn chair, drinking a beer and reading "Eat, Pray, Love" for the 50th time, I finally admitted to myself..."find someone else to play with." I know what a friend is. And what they do. And I'm confident I'm that kind of friend to all of mine. I would have been to Mr. PP too--even post breakup--because I am open and forgiving and hopeful...but not hopeful enough to think he'll call to say hi when he meets another potential lesbian head cheerleader.

Now I see there are two types of friends......the ones who take vacation time to come visit you (and then write you a note to say how much fun it was) and the ones who just don't want you to hate them. So they can feel better about themselves. For dumping you. And the ones that are mere acquaintances--from  high school--or that great big digital yearbook called FB. Real friendship requires work. My true friends aren't going to the reunion...and they all know the head cheerleader isn't a lesbian. They also all know I had my heart broken and that's why I'm not married and they're happy to allow me to take all the time I need to crawl out the hole and meet a new friend and that I WILL get married.

Maybe by the 40 year reunion. We'll see. If I want a reunion--I just have to pick up the phone. But if I go to that one--I'm bound and determined to bring a date and a ring. And then let them say what they want. By then, they won't be able to see whether it's woman or a man anyway. And I"ll still look better than most of them, no matter what team I bat for.