In order to go on with the self discovery, and put the my current approach into perspective, I’ve got to depict the situation I find myself in, so here it goes.
I met a girl, six years ago. There were several reasons why I could not even start to think of her as a potential love interest. Circumstances were against it, and, mostly, every study shows that people end up in a relationship with someone of a similar background. Our backgrounds couldn’t be more dissimilar: we were different in terms of language, culture (civilisation wouldn’t even be too big a word), age, upbringing, family history and wealth, personal history, projects, maturity, name it; just about anything really. And not even to mention the way our brains are wired.
And yet, from the very first conversation, we clicked. I won’t try to analyse why in this post, but the gist is, I guess, a similar way of looking at the world, similar values, and most importantly: a similar quest of finding out who we were and a will to better ourselves. We were coming from two different planets, and yet we were speaking the same language.
Despite something happening just about from the start between us, those differences made it so that it took months for us to become an official item. It took me more than a year of being near her to admit to myself that I was in love with her. Six months later, I did the unthinkable: I threw away my carefully curated nest and my beloved solitary life to move in with her, a first ever for me.
Things don’t always go as planned or wanted: while being together was great, she was wondering about what the next step in her life was to be, and it became obvious to her that that city we were living in, a city I love, wasn’t the right one for her and she needed to go away. So there it was: the place I love, the place that was part of me, she couldn’t be herself in it. Hence off she went, and there I stayed. There was a sadness at moving away from each other, but no acrimony: our last couple of months together were full of happiness and we lived them fully knowing that they were the lasts.
The dreaded day, I drove her to the station to leave the country, our last words before the train doors closed were “I love you”. And then we almost had no contact for a year, an arrangement we had made because we knew it was going to be too difficult. I went through a month or two being a bit sad, then I felt into an heavy depression. As long as I had been with her, I just enjoyed the situation. Now that she had gone, I started to take the measure of how unique was what she had brought to me, and I could not consider living without her an option anymore.
Long story short: she had had experiences of her own during that year apart, but she was willing to meet again. That we did, and it wasn’t easy, she was defensive, but I ended up convincing her that I was ready to throw my life out of the window and leave everything behind to be with her. And we did just that: I left my beloved city, I left my country, I left my friends, my family, my perfect job, my routine, I turned my life on its head to live with the girl I love.
Cue a very difficult time for me; being an aspie, it’s hard for me to change even a small piece of my habits, and there I was suddenly without anything to grasp onto. But oh boy was it worth it! We were nothing but amazement at looking to each other, nothing but pride at being with such a great person, nothing but complicity and being on the same wavelength on so many things.
But not on everything. I won’t try to analyse here what went wrong but all was not perfect. She still hadn’t find herself, and I was using my energy to handle those huge changes in my life and made some wrong choices about what to work on for things to really work. I had an accident that left me housebound when she was starting to have itchy feet, that kind of things. She was trying very hard to make it work, and I wasn’t in good enough a shape. An occasion gave her what I couldn’t at the time and she broke up with me.
Once again, this post is not the place where I’ll try to make sense of what happened, but here is the current situation: I’m far from everything that ever made me feel comfortable, and the reason I was willing to put myself in such an ordeal doesn’t even exist anymore. More than that: when it happened, it suddenly was awfully clear how fucked I was: all the support I could have was hundreds of kilometers away. I found myself having meltdowns in a place where I knew just about nobody but her friends, who obviously haven’t been especially willing to support me, as they disappeared from my life the day she did.
I had a breakdown. The first month saw me unable to sleep, regularly drunk and heavily smoking. I was a wreck.
I’ve been through that kind of situation before and I know I need to do something about it. I’m on a boat that’s going through a storm and I have no way of calming the storm nor to make it calm down earlier. The only choice I have is either to grasp on something, be seasick and wait for it to end, or work on getting better sea legs and maybe learn to pilot the ship so that it doesn’t take the biggest waves sideways and minimize the chances of capsizing.
I chose the latter. If I want to be able to look at myself in a mirror, I must be an actor of what’s happening, not just a victim of it. This website is part of that work. I’ve got to know the ship better if I am to pilot it safely through the storm. And the better understanding of the vessel I’ll have at the end of the storm will stay with me in stiller waters.
Shall I cross the T’s? That ship is me, obviously.