To my non-Eph friends: Yes, I know, a 0th reunion is silly and not a thing anywhere else. I don’t care. I’m excited for the excuse to dress up in purple and gold and cow spots and make the trek back to the wildly inconveniently-placed Berkshires and see the trouble old friends are getting into. This “reunion” is low pressure, and low responsibility, and it’s perfect antidote to the feeling that I’m simultaneously a little older and a little younger than I want to be right now. Who knows, maybe I’ll even be feeling generous and donate like a good Eph alum.

To my nearest and dearest that won’t be able to make it: I can’t think about my time at Williams without thinking about you. No matter how many times we’ve discussed that you aren’t coming, I’ll still be confused when I show up and you aren’t there. Expect sappy texts with lots of heart emojis.

To people who graduated in my class: If you are wading through the Post-Grad angst, YANA, and you don’t have to explain yourself. I’m going to assume that you’re in an entry level job, or doing more school, that it’s not all you thought it would be, and that you spend most of your days confused by adulthood. Absolutely no judgement, I'm just happy to see you! Tell me about the fun stuff you’ve been up to, or the cool things that you’d like to be doing. Or, tell me about what’s tough. If you’re feeling a little starved for intellectual stimulation, let’s take bets on election results and argue about what Williams could have done with the marble slabs in the new quad!

To the people that didn’t graduate with me, including the kid who transferred freshman year and the girl who took a few semesters off: I don’t know who is in charge of the reunion list, but you should definitely be here. I didn’t know half of my graduating class, but I remember you well and I’ll be wondering what you’re up to.

To my entrymates (and other similar Williams specific ties): Don't hit me with that former nonsense, you're still my entrymate and I'll always be stoked to see you, so please don't be shy today or in the future. Let's get weird.

To the people who wronged me, it's too soon. For the people that wronged my friends, it will probably always be too soon. I won't be warm and friendly, but I’ll say I hope your family is doing well, and I’ll actually mean it.

To the guys that are still cute and dumb: It's only the 0th, you have some time before the cute wears off and you're just dumb. (Yes, even at Williams.) We're rooting for you to get a clue.

To the people I haven’t kept in touch with like I promised: Man, I’m sorry. Expect a life update soon, and save some room in your schedule for a Skype date. I do love you. I’m just the worst.

To the people who are in my new city that I never call: I’ve actually thought about reaching out to you several times, but something less fun and more pressing (i.e. burning chicken, daily commute) is making time sparse. I hope that when I do reach out you don’t hate me for waiting so long.

To those who don’t understand why I would want to come back: Nostalgia is my middle name, and I love a good tradition! The Red Herring becomes charming when it’s not your only night life choice, the mountains are idyllic when you’re living in the city, and there’s something comforting about coming back place where you can put a name to all the good, the bad, and the ugly.

To the person I met freshman year and still think is cool: Why didn’t we hang out more? Because that was a mistake, and I would totally want to hang out now.

To the person whose name I could never remember, but had some fun memories with during Senior Week: Hey! So good to see you! Also, I still can’t remember your name. It’s nothing personal.

To my homies still at Williams: I’m a little sorry for my giddy, reverse prefrosh behavior. I don’t know why certain tables are making me sentimental, or why I can’t remember where normal things are, I’m just excited. Please let me hug you and then I pinky swear, I’ll let you gush when you’re feeling the same thing in a couple of years.