If Only I Hadn't Acted like Myself

The habits are congealed, rock solid.
I’m a private person, a cosmopolitan hermit.
Small talk is water torture, chitchat anathema,
meeting people the bane of my existence.
I arrive on time, to the minute, leaving no time,
no interstices for pleasantries.
I sit in a crowd and listen, a silent voyeur.
Give me a leadership role or let me stay home.
I’m not a herd animal.

I attended my first Overeaters Anonymous meeting
twenty-something years before I joined.
I arrived as the meeting began, left when it ended.
I spoke to nobody and they reciprocated.
I left as soon as the meeting ended.
If only I hadn’t acted like myself,
That roomful of people had a program I needed
and would have found without wasting years
searching for what was there.