High school reunions are so awkward. These are people you’ve known most of your life, yet, you hardly know. It became crystal clear to me the other night as I stood at my (cough) 25^th reunion.

I actually organized it. Frightening. My idea of a great gathering and wonderful entertainment is five friends, a magnum of pinot grigio and Jon Bon Jovi on the Bose CD player. Yet, here I was hosting our 25^th, just five years after our 20^th when I told Tracy I would never, ever, ever, do it again.

So, I made it simple: American Legion hall, pizza delivery, and asked some guys from our graduating class who formed a band if they could play…and, they did, spectacularly.

In fact, my friend Kathy, whose husband was attending his own class reunion that night just down the street with an all-you-can-eat menu and open bar, said our party was much better. Sometimes simple is best, I guess!

Anyway, people would walk in and I’d have a tug-a-war of emotions going on. First, I was very excited that someone was actually entering the building on our behalf, followed by an overwhelming feeling of terror that I wouldn’t recognize them. (I had a concussion when I was five, and now I finally realize why I have no long term memory. Or, maybe it’s the magnum…whatever.)

I recognized most of the people. For the few I didn’t, well, first, allow me to apologize. Second, let me say, I’m sure you had no idea who the hell I was either. Right?!

But there was one gentleman who sauntered through. He looked great. Better than I remember, in fact. And, better yet, his beautiful character remained unscathed by the ups and downs of life. He was gracious, kind, giving, caring, humble. And, he said, he’s loved me since he was seven.

Despite the concussion, I remember seven. I still wet the bed. I was always afraid. And I felt like I had no voice. No one would listen. So, I would write. That’s when I started writing in journals….and never stopped.

And, apparently, that’s when this ‘boy’ started liking me. We have never dated, never kissed (other than a greeting), and never explored our feelings. But we both have them. Growing up we did a lot of talking and listening to each other. And we became great friends as a result. The irony is, as we got older life got in the way. We graduated high school thinking that it was the end of an era. Off we go, never to be seen again. But life is funny, I’m learning. It has twists and turns and sometimes makes you do an about-face.

We’ve both made choices. Gone in different directions and are at very different points in our lives. And, when he says, “I’ve loved you since I was seven,” I wonder if that just means he loves the memory of me.  

Still, for this old girl, who knows how hard it is to maintain a solid, loyal, respectful relationship, well, I appreciate what was perhaps just a boyhood crush that turned into a gallant gesture at a 25^th reunion.

Yet, I can’t help thinking how long its been. If he has loved me since he was seven—that’s almost four decades. Whether it's the memory or the person he loves, I guess I'll never know. But it sure feels good to know that someone---someone who knew me back when I was a scared little girl--- still cares.

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By Stephanie Neil

Stephanie Neil is a journalist. Her business, technology, and human interest stories have appeared in a variety of print and online newspapers and magazines including eWeek, Managing Automation, The Harvard Alumni Bulletin, Huggies Baby Network, South Shore Woman, and The Boston Globe.  She lives on the South Shore with her two kids, two cats, and a dog. Contact info: stephanieneil@comcast.net  or 781-378-1652. Follow her on Twitter @StephanieNeil