Season Pass

It seems as if I should be in hiding but that’s not where I’m called to be at this time in my life. It’s difficult to escape a day without thinking on the past and feeling that familiar ache, the one I can’t imagine living without.

You grow to accept not being picked for the team, and maturity teaches you to wish the players a good season, a good year, and better lifetime. I try not to look at my dad, but three times a year I take a peak, and wonder how it is he didn’t find me ‘good enough’ to sit, let alone play, on his side of the field. Every time I’m not picked it goes through that sitting on the sidelines lens and the gaze gets clouded over until everything melds together and moves in slow motion. I’m an intruder. This isn’t the story I tell myself about myself. It’s a fact.

So today and every day no matter how I feel, I will at some point turn on the camera and greet the person on the other side of the screen, knowing beyond knowing that I’m the pinch hitter, and that for people like me there is always a team who will pick me, even if only for a game or two.

That’s how you learn to wish them all a good season, a good year, and a better lifetime.

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