Gorgeous

I had someone say the funniest thing to me this weekend. One of my friends mentioned to me that I was such a good looking guy in high school. To which I say: wha? Did I miss something?

I guess that I've never really had such an image of myself. I've never thought of myself as attractive. How can one possibly be the judge of such things? It didn't help that I had this idea constantly thrown at me that I was one of the social outcasts, unworthy of popularity.

And now I find that I still think this, and I'm surprised if not shocked when people pay me compliments, because I think to myself how untrue their words must be. It can't possibly be reality. I can't be good looking. It's a lie.

It amazes me how the trauma of a few years of high school can still manage to affect my self-esteem, a decade after the fact. And how does one go about fixing something like this, if it can be fixed at all?

I was putting in a central line, and one of the nurses was standing next to me, helping me with some saline and other assorted things, and she said, "Dr. Ifinding, you smell nice today." Can it be possible that all these years I've been entirely and utterly wrong about myself? What a devastating thought that is.

High school memories

Over this Thanksgiving weekend, I got to see some friends from high school briefly. It was quite odd. It had been so long since I saw some of them that seeing them again was a little jarring. It felt good though, and it was wonderful to have some intelligent conversations and really talk.

But I realized that nothing had really changed from high school. The cool kids are still the cool kids, and I'm still decidedly not cool. And I don't mind that terribly, but it's not what you could call a badge of honor or anything. It's a little sad, really.

I remember what it was like to be that outcast, the pariah. High school was a really hard time for me, and I'm glad that it's done, and part of me is very sad that it still haunts me a little, that I'm still bitter about my life back then. I wish that I was beyond it all, but I'm not.

I found out a while back that someone had spread all kinds of bad things about me through high school, completely without my notice. And I couldn't figure out why it was that whole parts of the school wanted nothing to do with me, and it hurt, in a spectacular way that only a peer group can hurt you. So I stuck with my friends, and clung on for dear life until graduation.

I think back sometimes and wonder if I could've made things better for myself, and why can't I do those things now in my life. I just can't though. Some things are hard to change, and in the end, I'm still in that pariah mode.

Maybe high school would've been different if... well, there are too few hours in the day to waste any more time on thoughts like this. High school is over, thankfully, and as much as I wish it was different, it is done.