This weekend, I will be attending my 10-year high school reunion.
I didn't expand any further on that sentence because I wanted to take a moment as I wrote to really look at what it said and think about it.
It really doesn't seem that I could have graduated high school 10 years ago, already. I mean, I still remember homecoming dances and prom. I can still remember what the hallways looked like and that my locker never actually locked if I set it on the number 15.
It can't have been 10 years since I put on a football helmet or sat in a chemistry class trying to appear as if I understood anything that was being taught me.
Has it really been 10 years since I said goodbye to my long-time friends as we all headed our separate ways for college?
I am a little nervous heading into this weekend because I don't really know what to expect.
Most of my close friends are people I grew up with and have known since well before my high school years and for the most part, we have stayed in touch.
It's seeing the people that were once such an important and vital part of my life who I've not seen or talked to in 10 years.
The girl that I was crazy about at the time and who I haven't seen since her graduation party, what's become of her?
The guys that I used to be so concerned about accepting me and approving of me so that I would be considered popular, what are they doing now?
I know that throughout my junior high and high school career, that I made a lasting impression on a few people, and I have stayed close to them but for so many others, so much time has gone by.
We are all different people now, and yet, I still find myself thinking about some of these people the way they were when we were 17 and 18 years old.
I hope that when I see my old classmates that they don't see me as that child anymore, but those are the last memories many of us still have.
It amazes me to think of how much life has changed and how much I've experienced over these past 10 years.
At 18, I remember thinking that I was on the precipice of great things. I was young and had the whole world at my feet.
At 19, the reality of the world was thrust into our faces when the World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks shook our feelings of security and invulnerability.
At 20, I made a major change in my life and decided to attend Kent State University and leave everything behind me.
At 21, I met and fell in love with the girl that I had been looking for my entire life.
At 22, I wondered if I was ever going to graduate college and get a chance at a ''real job.''
At 23, I wondered why in the world I wanted out of college and how much I hated looking for a ''real job'' while working at a ''job I hated.''
At 24, My battle with hair loss was officially lost and I said goodbye to ever having comb-able hair again.
At 25, I realized that it was time to start acting like an adult and asked that girl from when I was 21 to marry me.
At 26, I got married, bought a house and found out that I was going to be a dad.
At 27, I became a dad and my entire life and everything that I used to consider so important changed the first time I looked into my son's eyes.
At 28, I am me and I am still standing on the precipice of great things.
Life was a lot easier back then. I had no real bills to pay, Mom and Dad were still buying all my groceries, I worked at a Subway and ate for free, and all the things that were in front of me were exciting and new.
Some of those things that seemed so far in the future I have experienced. I'm a dad, I'm bald, I'm not as thin as I once was and believe it or not, I'm a little smarter now too.
As unsure of this weekend as I am, I look forward to seeing where life has led all these people who had once been the most important people in my world.
I will never forget the good times that we had, and some of the bad ones remain with me as a tool. Those were some of the best years of my life and as hard as it was to say goodbye to all those memories and people, I can't imagine trading today for yesterday.
Josh is a proud member of the Class of 2000 and you can contact him at email@example.com