NL #5: K'OD

Kay has been a delight.  Two plus months of dating has me at ease with her.  That first date is now a faint memory as I left it sure I would never see her again.  I’m so glad I was wrong.  After a couple of weeks, we started texting each other and started seeing each other regularly.

Walks in the park, sharing ice cream on a warm day, a walk through the “superbloom” that we had in Southern California this year, a little train ride, and a walk by the ocean where she pointed out the birds diving into the water, and most of all, a friend to share the experience with.  Kay and I got along great together.  She’s smart but doesn’t flaunt it.  She laughs at my lame jokes and tells a few of her own.  She’s affectionate and holds my hand and hugs me at will.  I’m loving all of this as this is why I had decided to break out of my domestic prison.  I was happier than I had been in way too long a period.

Yet I felt uneasy.  I knew there was something she was hiding.  I suspected what it was and even tried to coax her to open up about it.  She wouldn’t.  And just as quickly as this whole thing had started, it ended abruptly without a word, let alone an explanation.  After a few weeks, I texted her to prod an explanation.  I got one saying I was a “wonderful man with a heart of gold”, but there were too many complications to continue this.  Again, she wouldn’t divulge the real complication.  She didn’t expect that I would know what it was, but I did and do. 

Kay, I wish I was more important to you so you wouldn’t have so easily discarded me because you were afraid to ask me something.  I would have answered honestly and we would have either gotten closer or moved on.  My answer may have even surprised you as I don’t think you really understood who I am.  Now I can’t forgive you for that, and I’ll have to try to accept the fact that this wasn’t meant to be.  But I’m heartbroken.

I’m back where I was at the beginning of the year, albeit a bit sadder yet grateful.  I’ll always remember those wonderful couple of months with Kay.

NL#4: Am I Really Doing This?

"Am I really doing this?”  I ask myself this question – out loud even.  Well, I am in my car.  “How did it come to this?”  I never thought I’d be on a blind date again in my lifetime.  I suppose there really aren’t any “blind” dates anymore.  The Internet allows us to see basic info and even some photographs.  We’ve also been texting each other through the “app”.  So, I’m supposed to have some idea who Kay is.  But it is so easy to be fake.

When were those photos taken?  Is she really all the things she says she is?  How do I know she’s not a monster?  Of course, I assume she’s asking these questions about me as well.

I’m early of course, a habit of mine so I have a lot of time to think sitting in my car in the parking lot.  I’m incredibly uncomfortable.  I had already texted Kay my marital status and gave a brief explanation.  I vowed to myself to not going out without this disclosure.  How uncomfortable is she?  What kind of woman willing sees a man she already knows is married?  Does she understand and accept my situation?

Damn!  This is hard!  A big part of me really doesn’t want to do this.  I keep reassuring myself that I’m not cheating.  I’m not doing wrong.  I’m not a bad person and I deserve some happiness instead of being a prisoner in my own home.  But the guilt is there.  “Am I really doing this?”

There’s the text that she has arrived.  There’s no turning back now as I exit my car and head towards the restaurant.  I guess this is where the authenticity of our photos is tested.  Will we recognize each other?

I see her.  She gets there just before I do and I note that she looks every bit like the photographs I’ve seen.  This is good.  She doesn’t fake it.  “Hello Kay, it’s so nice to finally meet you!”  I got that out okay.  Kay warmly greets me.  She is nicely dressed in a somewhat low-cut green dress.  This, for some reason doesn’t help my growing apprehension.  If she had dressed more casually, I would have taken it more as a casual meeting.  Now I’m dealing with someone who is essentially saying ‘This is meaningful.’  I manage a “Shall we?” as I do open the door and allow her to enter first. 

Martini for her, glass of Cabernet for me, bread on the table and we’re through the first round of small talk.  Kay’s daughter had recently left home, leaving Kay with the desire to date which is something she’s been doing for nearly a year.  I talk a little about my work and that I mostly work at home and that it is pretty much my whole life.

This inevitably leads to the discussion of what is really going on with my marriage.  I tell her its what I had texted her earlier.  “This is not a relationship that anyone would define as ‘marriage’.”  I admit to being very uncomfortable about the discussion, but I know it’s important and we have to get past it.

Was it the way I conveyed it?  I can sense her demeanor has changed as suddenly, I’m seeing a look that’s a combination of pity and condescension.  “The one who has to get past this is you.  If you really felt the way you say you do, you wouldn’t be so fidgety.  You started the evening off as a tower of strength, but now you’re slinking into your seat and your voice pitch is higher.  You can’t deny that you still love your wife.”

I guess years of being a teacher made her very able to read people.  “I do love my wife.  I never said I didn’t.  You’re right that I’m uncomfortable.  I can’t shake the fact that I feel I’m betraying her.  Staying home and feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to help me.  I need to meet people.  I need this to remind myself that there are those out there who aren’t depending on me to come through for them.”

We continued talking through dinner about other parts of our livelihoods.  Looking at her, it was apparent that she didn’t feel the evening measured up to the expectations she had.  I wonder what they really were.

I just finished my first “First Date” in 26 years.  I’m not sure I can go through this again.

 

NL#3: The News

The outdoors was misty but not raining and I’m harbored in a café with her and her co-worker.  Over beers and sandwiches, we casually talk about work.  There’s not a whole lot, so the conversation turns to more pedestrian stuff like the food.  I must say here, that I can be awkward, even in smaller situations like this, but I definitely prefer it to noisy karaoke bars.  After mutual agreement that the food is very good, he smiles at me and I know something is coming.  “She is now engaged.”

On a cold, wet day late in winter, this is where my heart breaks and my whole world crumbles, right?

Instead, oddly enough, I find myself feeling relief.  Relief!  Relief that the complications that I had conceived would be in my future dissipated.  Relief that I wouldn’t have to keep trying to come up with excuses to see her to get her attention.

“Congratulations!  That’s very wonderful news!  I’m so happy to hear that and so happy for you!”  These words just came out of me genuinely, nothing fake.  She gleams.  I could tell she was pleased with my reaction.  I wonder if she would have told me if her co-worker hadn’t.  I tempt myself to go over to her side of the table and hug her, but I don’t.  I feel too self-conscious all of a sudden.  Instead, I lightly raise my glass.

I ask when will the event happen.  “November” she says.  “Back east”.  I put on a little show of disappointment.  “But I won’t have a chance to dance with the bride!”  This was an unusual thing for me to say since I don’t like dancing and am very bad at it.  She laughingly replies “Well, if you really want to dance, we can arrange something before.” I laugh back and put my hands up and slightly shake my head “That’s okay.  I’d just trip anyways.”

The three of us part.  I wonder when I’ll see her again.  Despite the news, I hope it won’t be too long.

I’m afraid that the sky will open up as I walk back to my car, I think to myself, ‘I’m truly happy for her.  How odd!’  I realize it was love.  I really loved her!  And real love means that her happiness and fulfillment are more important than mine.  I know there would be times coming up when I will forget that and feel sad for myself.  I’ll just have to try to remember that first reaction.  I’m frankly, a little proud of myself for the way I handled the news.  Too many times in other situations, I’ve reacted poorly and said the wrong thing.

I got back to my car dry and satisfied.

NL#2: Goodnight

A nice round of applause and even a shout occurs as we finish up our duet.  I get a nice little hug.  As we sit back down, she apologizes for not knowing the song as well as she’d like.  I smile at her and tell her she did great and I hope she had fun while doing it.  I also bring up the fact that I screwed up one line and know the song so I have no excuse.  She says “No worries! It’s always fun with you Robert.  You surprise me every time you go up there.  You’re so different when you’re not in trial.”

She’s right of course.  When working, I’m almost all business, intense even.  I’m glad she realizes there’s more to me than the oftentimes stern and critical technician she sees in various courtrooms.  Sitting down and taking in a few good swigs of beer, I get a few “good job” gestures and it’s not long before I’m back in my shell.  She’s now talking with the guys.  I pretend to listen in, but I can’t distinguish voices with all the background noise so as usual, I don’t know what’s going on.  It’s almost 11 and I finish my beer and get ready to go up and request my third, and almost certainly last song.  I’ve been debating this one.  Do I dare somber down and go with Herb Alpert’s “This Guy’s In Love With You”.  I know it well.  I used to sing it to my wife, but now I have a different target in mind.  I ask the passing waiter for a Coke and I wonder if I should go through with it.  I’d sing the song looking straight ahead and certainly not at her.  I have some cute gestures I like to do with this number.  It’s too on-target!  Plus, she’s had a few and the bar is louder than ever and full of half, maybe even a few fully drunk patrons.  She may not notice.  I’ll save it for another night and do a real attention getter instead.  I’ve been wanting to do “Enter Sandman” by Metallica for a while.  I’m not a hard rocker, but I can roar with the best of them.  I got to get some sugary cola down my throat though.  It will prepare my voice better.

I got a bit hoarse at the end, but really got the crowd going.  There was a good deal of laughter when I got back to the gang.  It was fun for me.  It was fun for them watching me, an old guy stroll around the little stage and scare everyone with my intense heavy metal growl.  I get told that they never imagined me doing anything like that.  I tell them I forgot my leather pants.  More laughter ensues.  She comes over and hugs me.  I hug her back strong and long here.  She’s a bit intoxicated and I can smell the cigarette smoke on her so I was able to get a bit extra touchy-feely.  She felt so good.  It was tough to let go. 

I look her in the eyes and tell her I will have to be leaving soon.  “Awww, I know you have a long drive home.”  Yes, I was tired and a bit burned out.  As I had mentioned, these crowded gatherings are exhausting to an Aspie. 

The drive home tonight will just have me frustrated.  I’ll keep thinking of things I should have said.  I’ll start thinking of what to do next.

NL#1: Attention

 ‘Why does it always have to be so noisy?’ People all around me, uncomfortable hard chair, slightly sticky tabletop below my hand, and a cold Stella in the other hand, but still on the table.  I’m uncomfortable.  I can’t distinguish the voices around me.  I hope no one is speaking to me because I wouldn’t be aware.  Public places are a challenge for an Aspie.  Just sitting in the wooden chair wears me out physically and even spiritually.  But I’m glad to be here.  I need to be here.

I sip my beer and attempt to chat.  My limited range of subjects to chat about have me bringing up a question concerning our work.  I don’t really want to talk shop, but I can’t think of anything else.  I hate small talk.  I remember the movie “As Good As It Gets” with Jack Nicholson sitting down at a restaurant with Helen Hunt and after about 2 exchanges and maybe 3 or 4 sentences, Jack just exasperatingly says how exhausting this was.  I can relate.

Finally, the karaoke host enters and the reasons for being in this little restaurant/bar come into focus.  Despite the messy distractions, I had grown very fond of karaoke.  It may be a weird thing to say, but it’s probably my best form of expression.  Going up in front of people has never been a problem for me.  Speaking my mind, on the other hand, would be fatal because I know I’ll say the wrong thing or trip over my words so badly.  But karaoke is scripted.  It’s laid right out there on the monitor of what to sing and when to sing it.

I almost always know what my song selections will be for the night.  I may pretend to look in the book – actually, this place doesn’t even have the books, it’s all online now which means ‘Forget about it!’ as far as I’m concerned.  I know because every song I do has a purpose.  Tonight, I’m opening with “All About Soul” from Billy Joel.  This is an old favorite of mine.  I always wanted this to be about my wife.  At one time, much of it was – the woman of faith and devotion who soothes my soul.  Alas!  That time is past.  So, I do this number because I still love the song, I do it well, and…she’ll hear it.  Will she be impressed by my Billy Joel impression?  Will she be impressed by the passionate way I perform the song?  Will she be impressed that I would choose such a spiritual and meaningful work and would that change and improve her perception of me?  In my fantasy, yes to all the above.  In reality, I wish I knew.

Back at the table.  The group, that includes her, all praise me.  I smile and thank them all.  It’s a good supportive group of people.  I’m grateful and lucky to know them.  I take in a few sips of beer and get back up and approach her.  I finally get her attention and remind her that we had talked about doing a duet together the last time.  I tell her I’m not accustomed to duets and have only done it a handful of times.  I’m going to ask her if she was familiar with “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” by Elton John and Kiki Dee.  Unlike the first song, this one is more direct and I have to hope she would have fun with it and the words from me (Elton) would stick in her brain for a while.  Second choice is “Love Shack” by The B-52’s.  It's a nutty song and I do the Fred Schneider voice really, really well.  This would get a good crowd reaction.  I’d have to hope she would be impressed by my ability to have fun with a song.

Right now, I just want her attention.

The Mosquito Coast Analysis: Part 2 - Who is Allie Fox?

"A reasonable man adapts to the world.  Unreasonable one tries to adapt the world to himself.  Therefore, progress always depends on unreasonable ones."  - George Bernard Shaw

In Part One, I covered the broad theme of explorers driven to find new worlds and establish their visions of Utopia.  Every individual has their own ideas of Utopia so therefore this never works as is the case of Allie Fox in The Mosquito Coast.

Now let’s focus in on Allie Fox himself.  I bet anybody who has seen this movie came out of it with a strong opinion of him.  He has a strong personality.  He looks like an ordinary fellow, but we just can’t help noticing his self-confidence and belief in openly sharing his ideas to anybody within earshot.  I’ll admit right now that I think Allie Fox is a fascinating character.  Is he the way he is just because he wants to be different?  How much of what he says is truly what he believes and how much is just to get his way?

Who is Allie Fox? 

I’ll go over some of the same points as part 1, but only because they fit these points as well.

Allie thinks of himself as “The Last Man”, the one who will save civilization, the last one who knows how.

Allie’s son Charlie thinks of his father as a “genius”.  He listens to Allie rant on and soaks it all in.  Charlie is the eldest son and is clearly Allie’s favorite child.  Charlie is the apparent heir of Allie’s genius.

Jerry is Allie’s second son.  He’s always unsure of his father, his visions, and his intentions.  He’s not the believer Charlie is and is therefore mostly ignored by Allie.

I have to point out that this story is being told from the perspective of Charlie.  Charlie, being very much like his father is misogynistic.  We never learn his mother’s name.  She is just referred to as “Mother” – her sole role in the family and the movie.  The same goes for the twin daughters.  They are referred to as “April” and “Clover” in the closing credits, but I don’t believe that either one is called by name during the movie.  They hardly matter in Charlie’s narrative.  Charlie with his bias towards his father, is not an entirely credible narrator.

So what do “Mother” and the daughters think of Allie?  It doesn’t matter and they all seem very accepting of this.  “Mother” is happy when Allie is happy.

Most people outside the family who know Allie think he’s the town nut.

Reverend Spellgood seems to think Allie is a false prophet, or perhaps even the devil who poisons the ears of those who listen.

When Allie brought civilization in the form of farming, organized housing, and finally ice and air conditioning to a village in the Belize jungle, the indigenous people there thought he was a god.  Deep down inside, this is what Allie wanted all along.  For an all too short period, all was well with Allie when his vision appeared to come to reality and it was all due to him. 

Which basically makes Allie a megalomaniac.  He has a God complex.

Allie talks and talks and talks.  He hears only himself and this conditions him into believing he is a god.

Allie can create a person a.k.a. “Fatboy”.

“The Earth’s bellybutton”.  Allie’s position is that he can control even the Earth.  The Earth has human parts like “Fatboy”.

Even Mr. Polski’s employees call Allie “Father”.

"He’s my father too!”

The Bible doesn’t work.  Allie feels he can make this judgment.

Allie wants the wheel.  The need for control.

Allie gets his way.  He takes the wheel as if it’s his boat later on. 

Allie and Spellgood argue.  Allie lambasts his “lack of presumption”.  He also speaks as if he replaced God – “he didn’t, I did!”

The family being excited to go “home” means loss of control to Allie.  Notice how he regains his control.  He uses fear as a tool to control.  He tells his family America doesn’t exist anymore.

In order to perpetuate his own delusion that he is a god, Allie feeds his megalomania by turning negative situations positive with the tool of rationalization.

Mr. Polski rejects ‘Fatboy’.  Allie is disappointed at first, but then tells his boys that it’s a good thing.

Jeronimo is obviously not what Allie expected, but he tells his family it’s perfect.

Allie even rationalizes the destruction of Jeronimo.

“An Ordeal is a Square Deal”.  That’s an interesting quote.  Who said it? Theodore Roosevelt? Or is that Allie’s?

With yet another disaster happening and all seeming to be lost again, we get “I’ve got control!”  as Allie quickly regains his confidence with the found spark plugs and gasoline.  We know this is false because the plugs and gas came from Mr. Haddi and Charlie.  Allie did not have control.

“I’m doing this for all of us.  I’m doing this for you.”  More rationalization.

“Beautiful country, eh Mother.”  Allie goes back to thinking he can make everything right.

Allie’s most human moments are when the 3 mercenaries take over.  He even admits he made a mistake.

Spellgood and his own God-complex.

“And Pharoah said…”

Does Spellgood see the people of Jeronimo as “Israel” meaning slaves?  Allie notes the barbed wire around his property and calls it a “Christian Concentration Camp”.  Spellgood’s upset that “his people” forsook him for Allie. 

Spellgood’s beliefs are opposite of Allie’s.  Spellgood  sees life as a burden where one must accept one’s place in it and endure.  Spellgood is just the man to give comfort to the people that God will ease their burdens.  Allie believes that problems in life are there to be fixed.  Allie is the man up to the task.  Both men are megalomaniacs.

When Allie confronts Spellgood, whom he sees as a foe, the camera angle depicts him like a gunfighter fingering his hammer as if he’s about to be in a quickdraw.

I find the blue and yellow clothing interesting.  Notice how almost everybody wears blue and/or yellow except Allie and Charlie, who mostly wear tan and green.  They see themselves as separate from the others.  Even Spellgood and two men with them are in yellow or blue.  Mother wears white with a blue kerchief.  Looks like she’s a bit in between.

Just as Allie’s temple burned in a raging inferno, so did Spellgood’s. The burning tower resembles “Fatboy” burning.

Omens/Foreshadowing

Throughout the movie, there are little clues or omens that betray the thought that all is right with Allie and his visions.

Polski outright warns Charlie and Jerry that their father is dangerous.

Shadows creeping.  A broken down ancient temple.  I mentioned these in part 1.

Upside-down pyramid on “FatBoy” counters the idea that Allie and “Fatboy” are at the top of things.

Allie get angry when Jerry doesn’t show the awe everyone else does.

Allie’s watch is an “Omega” meaning the end.

Raft looks like a fish skeleton.  Raft of death.

Tyrant at the end.  You think of socialist “utopias” that quickly turned into tyrannies – USSR, China, Cuba. 

Allie realizes he’s just a man at the end.

It’s hard to think of it this way, but the world needs its Allie Foxes.  It needs people who do what everyone else think is crazy.  It’s those like Fox who wake people up and ultimately inspire others.  Progress doesn’t come institutionally from governments or corporations; it comes from risk-takers with self-serving motives.

Back to Blogging?

I'm going to attempt to get back to the personal discipline of writing something at least a couple of times a week.  Much of it really will be pure drivel as I'm doing this for me and not trying to impress or enlighten anybody.  So move along, please.  Nothing to see here.

The Meaning of Love

 

I'm suddenly reminded of an episode of Taxi where Louie DePalma (Danny DeVito) explains what love is.  He's absolutely right!  This is the best explanation of love I have ever heard.

"They're still the Mets.  It's the same room. BUT YOU GOTTA HAVE ZINA THERE!"

For My Eyes Only: Confessions of an Aspie

I turned 60 a couple of weeks ago.  I can definitively say that age has never been an issue with me.  Whether I was in my 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, and even 50’s, I never dwelled upon my age beyond just acknowledging to myself where I was in life.  All those birthdays came and went, and I have few memories of any of them.  I never even had a mid-life crisis.  People who know me know I’m down to Earth and logical, perhaps to a fault.

I’m having difficulty accepting that I’m 60.  I think I know why.

I’m writing this for myself.  I’m publishing this for personal reasons that I cannot disclose.  My legacy right now is primarily a few YouTube videos I’ve made.  I need to put something out there more personal and more personally meaningful.  I’m very healthy and strong.  I have no cancer, no heart issues, and all my body parts work.  I don’t plan on going anywhere for a long, long, time.  But when I do go, I know I won’t be remembered.

I swear that I’m not writing this to feel sorry for myself.

I’m autistic.  I’m not “Rain Man” but anybody who understands this and met me would realize I’m “somewhere on the spectrum” as they say.  Ten years ago or so, I would have been labeled as someone with Asperger’s Syndrome.  As I understand it, that term is being used less and less.  It’s not like I really keep up with this stuff, however.

What is it like having Asperger’s?  I’ve read and heard some explanations that never really satisfied me.  So I’ll give you mine.  As someone with Asperger’s, life occurs on the other side of a screen and I’m primarily an observer.   I only partially understand what’s going on the other side of the screen because my brain has problems processing information from my senses.  I see people interacting and it’s all a big mystery.  Blending in with and being part of a group of people is a natural thing for most human beings.  For me, it’s next to impossible because I can’t process new information on the fly.  I have to analyze everything before I can understand it.  Therefore, if I’m exposed, I’ll do everything to go back in front of the screen.  In other words, I tend to not play well with others and come across as shy and awkward.  People I knew or know may remember me for saying inappropriate things at inappropriate times.  There is an ever-growing list of people who used to be in my life whom I have alienated and will have nothing to do with me.  If I had any empathy, I’d actually care.

Ah empathy!  It’s often explained that people with Asperger’s lack it.  For the most part, that’s fairly accurate.  Viewing a sick child or injured animal will make most people sad, even if it’s not their child or pet.  That really doesn’t happen with me.  However, over the years, I’ve learned to “fake” it because I know I’m supposed to feel this way and will be scorned if I don’t.  Deep down, I really am a cold-hearted bastard!  Or am I?

If I lack empathy, why do I still mourn for a dog I lost 24 years ago?  Why does the memory of the vet inserting that injection into him haunt me to this day?  Why do I lie at night wondering where my brother is as he is one of the forementioned people whom I’ve alienated and is no longer in my life?

I’m getting better all the time, but Asperger’s will show its ugly head now and then, even at age 60.

I try not to and don’t often think of my childhood, but I’ll make an exception today.  I didn’t know why I was not like the other kids.  I had very few friends if any.  Most kids just saw me as that weird kid who kept to himself and was kind of dumb and klutzy.  There were few who could match me at math or could spell as well as me.  Yet I didn’t get good grades.  I never wanted to learn what the teacher was teaching.  My parents didn’t know what to do with me.  All they knew was that I “wasn’t applying myself”.  I got repeatedly berated and punished.  They made me feel worthless.

It got worse as a teenager.  I never partied.  I never dated.  I couldn’t even talk to girls.  I went through high school angry and scared because I was repeatedly reminded that my future relied on my schoolwork.  I was screaming on the inside, but no one heard me because there was nothing to hear.  

Going into my 20’s found me convinced I had no future and I was a worthless human being.  Those days in the early ‘80’s found me providing food services at Magic Mountain.  Rumor has it I went to college, but that was such a waste of time that I barely remember it and mostly refuse to acknowledge that I ever went.  I didn’t learn a thing except that I’m stupid.

It was a rocky path, but spending more and more time away from my parents was the first step.  At Magic Mountain, I started to figure out I had my own identity.  This may seem strange, but to me it was a revelation.  Believe it or not, I found out I had a sense of humor.  I learned how to say things to make people laugh – I never had that before!  I think I even got some people to genuinely like me.

At age 26, I left home.  That’s late for most, but scary for me.  I still didn’t have my act together, but I moved in with someone who gave a gentle push and helped me tremendously.  It’s too bad that became a relationship that would sour.  I still had a ways to go.

Entering my 30’s found me angry and frustrated.  I had become a bad person.  I was convinced I had no future and was rude and snarky to a lot of people.  I had become very unreliable.  No one could count on me as I only thought of myself.  Others my age were married and had children.  I wanted that too but was clueless of how to get there.  I was jealous.  My career at the time was computer retail sales and I absolutely hated it.  I was such a loser!

In a dead end career, in a dead end situation, in a dead end life, I suddenly decided to fix my life.  I can’t really explain what the moment was or if it was a moment, a day, or even a year.  With literally no valuable skills, I developed some.  I mentioned earlier that I was a poor student.  I always hated classrooms and still do.  For years, I had dabbled in how to use computers for video and animation.  It helped me in selling this stuff.  Why not fully dive into it?  I’m a good student when I’m teaching myself and that I did.  I taught myself so well that in a very short time, my skills were marketable.  So marketable in fact, a college hired me to be a part-time instructor.  I ended up teaching video editing and 3D animation in Hollywood for 2.5 years!  I still can’t get over what an amazing break that was.  The school found out one day that I lacked a college education that they had assumed I had and they dismissed me. 

It hardly mattered.  In my early 30’s, I found myself.  Nothing was going to stop me now!  All the self-doubt and low self-esteem I had all my life were replaced by genuine drive and ambition.  Within just a few years, I made myself as a respected person in the legal industry and even got married.  Incidentally, this was also the time I found out I was autistic.  I never knew or even suspected.  I always had just assumed something was just plain wrong with me.

It took me 30+ years to learn what Robert Wilson was capable of.  For me, life truly began at age 30.  The Asperger’s never left, but it’s no longer a mystery or an obstacle, it’s who I am. 

I lost my wife to a series of strokes starting 6 years ago.  She’s alive, but she’s so physically and mentally impaired that she is no longer the person I had married.  She’s now an obligation (I have to feed, wash, and dress her).  I am essentially a widower.  So I’m 60 with parents who’ve both passed away years ago, a brother whom I haven’t spoken to for years, very few friends, and there is a person who used to be my wife living in my house.  Yet, I never felt lonely these past years.  That has changed.  “Aspie’s” are used to being alone.  Even among friends, we are always alone to a certain extent.  Loneliness is a fairly new experience for me.  Why am I suddenly lonely?

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