Helena Handbasket
Well-known member
(I don't know if he'll ever see this, but let me just say it's not impossible.)
The year we were together was one of the best years of my life, although in retrospect, I can see now that it was doomed. You see, I have Asperger's Syndrome, where one is extremely capable in fields like math and science, but severly deficient in social skills. I did not have what it took to respond to your social signals, and as a result came across as uncaring and uninterested. Believe me, it's not that I didn't care; I just didn't have a clue about how to show it.
My heart was shattered when you broke it off with me. "Let go and move on" all the experts said, but I could no sooner let go and move on than I could sprout wings and fly. But not for lack of trying -- I even got married in the attempt. It didn't work -- all it was was just another nail in the coffin of what had been the best thing I ever had going for me.
If anything, my feelings for you deepened as the years rolled on, as the emotional blockages from my past were dislodged; through years of therapy, both on and off the cans.
I've long since given up the idea of us getting back together in this lifetime, but sometimes I think (fantasize?) we'll meet up again "somewhere up the line" in the future when all will be forgiven and we can start anew. But perhaps that's just a fool's hope.
We do seem to run into one another every few lifetimes; in your last lifetime/my next-to-last lifetime we were with each other and extremely happy. But tragically, I died of a puerperal infection, just a few short years before the antibiotics that could have saved my life became generally available. This happened in Australia, explaining my fascination with that continent in this lifetime. Subconciously, I went there looking for you (but of course you were no longer there).
After the breakup, I shed a million tears, but I don't blame you for it -- I consider myself 95% responsible for our parting of the ways. Remember when I told people I was suicidal? Only to turn up very much alive after a few days? Well, what no one realizes is that I very nearly did the deed. I went back to the place we first met to try and get ****** and ******* to talk me out of it.
So eventually I did what I do best -- I ran away. I moved to another city and did the OT levels. I went to a public meeting when who do I see walking in the door -- but you! You walked up behind me and rubbed my neck -- it was the most glorious moment I had in a year! Again, because of my Asperger's syndrome I was not capable of responding appropriately.
At one point I was moving from one apartment to another across the street -- you offered to to help me, and in my Aspie way of thinking, since it was such a short move and I didn't have too many things, I didn't need help -- so I idiotically said no. What I didn't realize then was that you were offering to spend time with me (which I did want).
I'm truly sorry about the bumper sticker. It was never meant as a serious threat; more of a statement of, "see how much you hurt me?" Or at the very worst, a Freudian wish-fulfillment fantasy meant to discharge my feelings internally while having no effect on the external world.
Add to all of the above my health problem that finally pushed you over the edge. No need to air that dirty laundry here.
Why are we drawn to each other like this? I suspect it's because of a "mechanism" between us that kicks in every time we drift apart that attempts to pull us back together again. This is very high level OT stuff, and will respond to processing.
Although deep down inside I'd rather have the very slightest chance of simply being with you in the distant and uncertain future than blowing away this connection. But enough is enough -- I can't go on like I have. There is also a protocol that promises to "reboot my emotional subsystem". I'm going to try both of these.
Sometimes, what I want is simply to know how you are doing, just so I can wish you well. I should have taken you up on your offer, years ago, to be "just friends". While it was less than I wanted, it would have been a lot more than I ended up with.
So farewell my love, perhaps forever.
Give my best to the Mrs.
And by the way, happy birthday.
Helena Handbasket
The year we were together was one of the best years of my life, although in retrospect, I can see now that it was doomed. You see, I have Asperger's Syndrome, where one is extremely capable in fields like math and science, but severly deficient in social skills. I did not have what it took to respond to your social signals, and as a result came across as uncaring and uninterested. Believe me, it's not that I didn't care; I just didn't have a clue about how to show it.
My heart was shattered when you broke it off with me. "Let go and move on" all the experts said, but I could no sooner let go and move on than I could sprout wings and fly. But not for lack of trying -- I even got married in the attempt. It didn't work -- all it was was just another nail in the coffin of what had been the best thing I ever had going for me.
If anything, my feelings for you deepened as the years rolled on, as the emotional blockages from my past were dislodged; through years of therapy, both on and off the cans.
I've long since given up the idea of us getting back together in this lifetime, but sometimes I think (fantasize?) we'll meet up again "somewhere up the line" in the future when all will be forgiven and we can start anew. But perhaps that's just a fool's hope.
We do seem to run into one another every few lifetimes; in your last lifetime/my next-to-last lifetime we were with each other and extremely happy. But tragically, I died of a puerperal infection, just a few short years before the antibiotics that could have saved my life became generally available. This happened in Australia, explaining my fascination with that continent in this lifetime. Subconciously, I went there looking for you (but of course you were no longer there).
After the breakup, I shed a million tears, but I don't blame you for it -- I consider myself 95% responsible for our parting of the ways. Remember when I told people I was suicidal? Only to turn up very much alive after a few days? Well, what no one realizes is that I very nearly did the deed. I went back to the place we first met to try and get ****** and ******* to talk me out of it.
So eventually I did what I do best -- I ran away. I moved to another city and did the OT levels. I went to a public meeting when who do I see walking in the door -- but you! You walked up behind me and rubbed my neck -- it was the most glorious moment I had in a year! Again, because of my Asperger's syndrome I was not capable of responding appropriately.
At one point I was moving from one apartment to another across the street -- you offered to to help me, and in my Aspie way of thinking, since it was such a short move and I didn't have too many things, I didn't need help -- so I idiotically said no. What I didn't realize then was that you were offering to spend time with me (which I did want).
I'm truly sorry about the bumper sticker. It was never meant as a serious threat; more of a statement of, "see how much you hurt me?" Or at the very worst, a Freudian wish-fulfillment fantasy meant to discharge my feelings internally while having no effect on the external world.
Add to all of the above my health problem that finally pushed you over the edge. No need to air that dirty laundry here.
Why are we drawn to each other like this? I suspect it's because of a "mechanism" between us that kicks in every time we drift apart that attempts to pull us back together again. This is very high level OT stuff, and will respond to processing.
Although deep down inside I'd rather have the very slightest chance of simply being with you in the distant and uncertain future than blowing away this connection. But enough is enough -- I can't go on like I have. There is also a protocol that promises to "reboot my emotional subsystem". I'm going to try both of these.
Sometimes, what I want is simply to know how you are doing, just so I can wish you well. I should have taken you up on your offer, years ago, to be "just friends". While it was less than I wanted, it would have been a lot more than I ended up with.
So farewell my love, perhaps forever.
Give my best to the Mrs.
And by the way, happy birthday.
Helena Handbasket
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