Read the story…
It is a question and answer woven together…both are very complicated…
I have no idea whether he was an Aspie…it seems possible…and I only came to know him at all because circumstances made it even harder to avoid him entirely…his position was much as I describe it in the story, he couldn’t afford a relationship, and an achilless heel at all.
It was 18 months after the last time I saw him (when I had no choice but find words to send him away for a long time, if not for good, for his own safety, at the expense of mine, another story again), when there was no chance of ever running into him again before I could admit to myself, that if I were more normal, in a more normal world, I could have loved him for a lifetime.
I never really had another lover since…no one could match him, he set the bar too high, and after that I would not insult myself with less.
There were one or two sad, desperate men who couldn’t get anyone else, who helped keep me alive…and two others who made me feel so guilty for being the source of their affected “unrequited devotion” that they had me wrapped around their finger to an extent…
Until very recently, when I am beginning to fear that someone could have matched, and raised him under even more impossible circumstances…
It should be impossible but I suspect it really happened…especially when I read the story again for the first time in many years…to write it I edited the real man to be as close to my ideal as possible…and it stuns me how close I came…
I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie
I have my freedom but I dont have much time
I have no option at all but to walk away (not only from one man, but temporarily, at least, from most of my acquaintanceship to avoid him)…if I try to do anything else I just freeze…and cannot even function in any normal way. He does not even know and I shall never tell. I have it covered already.
So I shall spend this Christmas feeling like a child who finally got the puppy she always wanted and adored only to have to take it to the dog pound right away because she was allergic to it. Which is, of course, exactly the kind of pain you were hoping to dig up and rub my nose in, except that you couldn’t dig it up, it was here all along anyway.
I have honestly always felt, Trisha, that you fulfill every criteria for pathological narcissism, accompanied by some kind of histrionic aspect, I have never seen one single thing to contradict it.
GD