Friday, January 07, 2011

MAYBE IT WAS NOT THE RIGHT TIME

It is fortunate that I am not normal. A normal person would probably think about killing himself right about now. I am not that weak.
Far too stubborn and ornery, in fact.

I've always thought of self-murder as being, besides being impossibly comedic, a fierce statement against an un-understanding world, a final act of resistance, a defiant and definite rude gesture to everyone and everything.
Except, what would I be rebelling against?
Her having dumped me?
Screw that, I am more resilient than that.
Her having, for some strange and twisted Asperger-meets-terminally-shy neurotic reason have fixated on my imagined failings?
I've been gallant and gentlemanly for nearly 22 years, if she cannot appreciate that, someone else will.

Perhaps her having concluded, after months of obsessive Asperger-type misinterpretation that our relationship was an old rag that should be dumped rather than kept?

An old rag?!?

IF ALL YOU WERE WILLING TO TALK ABOUT IS HOW YOU DISLIKED YOUR JOB, FOR SEVERAL MONTHS, HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO REACT? YOUR FRUSTRATIONS AT WORK WERE ALWAYS MORE THAN ENOUGH REASON FOR ME TO LOOSE INTEREST IN SNUGGLE-BUNNIES.
SWEETHEART, BRINGING THAT TO BED WAS RAIN ON THE PARADE.

Do you tell Wheelchair guy about those things? Have you started sharing that with him yet?
Yes, I know he's totally insensitive - his Aspergers is worse than yours, far worse than mine. But even thingboy may eventually find it somewhat less than stimulating. Dis-inspiring even.

Perhaps, just maybe, certain conversational gambits are NOT bedroom appropriate.

And yet, you blamed me.

Thank you.

I feel so important.


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