My son is in the band. The entire band is playing together at the football game. Parents stream into the stands. They find their places and wave to their children, other parents, teachers and coaches. They move from one location to the next in an effort to catch up on the latest Noblesville news. They laugh loudly. They tell stories. They hug happy children and quickly compliment them on their brilliance and accomplishments.
My shadow casts long and lonely across the filling stands.
I have no interest in talking to people. Their lives seem carelessly intertwined and I don’t want to be a part. They know too much about one another and it makes me uncomfortable. They obviously attend the Friday night games with regularity and it appears excessive.
I know some of these people, from a distance, of course. They aren’t that happy. One man hits his children. Another drinks into a drunken stupor. One woman is too friendly with male neighbors. Another sits alone in the evenings while her husband “works late”.
For all their smiles, all their laughter, all their banter, there is a stadium full of pain. The friendships and friendliness on display appears to nothing more than a show.
Perhaps it is a character flaw.
It might be antisocial behavior.
It is possible that I smell bad.
I’m not really sure that it is a problem, but I tend to sit alone.