The Past Comes Clicking

I knew it was a gamble, but I thought it was controlled. I thought I weighed the odds, and was comfortable with the possible outcomes.
I was wrong.
Today, I looked in my inbox on Facebook. There it was. A name I hadn't seen, heard, or thought of in at least 10 years. PersonFromHighSchool wants to be my friend. Confirm? Ignore?
The cursor of the mouse went back and forth. Confirm? In fact, I do exist. PFHS as my friend? Can't really speculate. Ignore? The button should say Denial. I deny this person exists. I deny that part of my life exists. I deny admitting that I care.
PFHS. It was a jolt. I mean this person had to have sought me out. My maiden name is not listed. My home town is slightly different than the one most frequently listed.
I GET IT. Creating an identity on FB is, in essence a renouncement of my privacy. It's a way of putting myself out there, in the interwebs. But still, I wanted to communicate with the people I wanted to communicate with, not now-strangers. PFHS undoubtedly has grown and changed. She appears to actually have done quite well for herself (she was very smart, gregarious, and so social). I have grown and changed. I feel secure in life (except for aforementioned internist) and have made good choices. I have a beautiful family and a happy life.
So, what's the deal? I can't finger it. The ambivalent feelings that swirl back to me about PFHS herself? High school in general? Is it more the process by which she found me? Do I feel foolish for being out there? Not being private enough? Ambivalent about being found? Will others find me? Is this the first raindrop in a torrential storm of shadowy now-strangers?
I think it's as though I feel spied upon. Like someone saw my photo, weighed the odds, wondered if I were the same person, new name, thought about what I was doing, wondered if I were the same.
I checked out PFHS's profile. I noticed there were like 8 new friends in her feed, most of whom were from high school. Maybe she went on a Facebook binge last night, looking for people. Maybe she was feeling nostalgic. Maybe the intentions are friendly and not nefarious, as I always suspect.
Maybe this is the chance to grow and change, and not be suspicious and cynical.
The cursor moves to Confirm. I click. I hope for the best.