Jay and I had the most amazing relationship. We meshed perfectly and deeply. It felt like more than just chance. It felt like Destiny. Like we had been together before, and would be together again, that we had searched all of this life for each other, our lost half.
During the eight years that we were platonic friends, before we were intimate, all of our friends and coworkers had picked up on something. They thought we were having an affair for years before we actually touched (touched anything! Including clothing!) When we did first touch, it was an explosion. We both reeled. Matter meets antimatter. After we were married, many people remarked on how one of us would change when the other walked into the room, the brightening, the change in posture, the softening of expression. We were so comfortable with each other, necessary to each other, really like the much-maligned "two parts of a whole". We were the embodiment of union.
In the last few years, the doctors and nurses noticed and mentioned it. I think that's one reason why I was allowed so many liberties in the hospitals that were allowed to no one else. I was good for Jay, and they saw it.
And then he died. I figured life after Jay would be just marking time. I couldn't imagine romance after Jay. There wasn't another man on earth who could meet my standards after Jay, no man who could live up to the precedent set by Jay, and it wouldn't be fair to ask any to try.
So, now it's four years.
I'm starting to notice men again, and maybe even want one of them thangs fer myself. There are things I miss touching.
I have been trying to understand the relationship between Jay and me, to figure out why we were the way we were. And why I don't expect to see that again. And what it means to possible future relationships.
I think I finally understand.
As I've mentioned before, Jay was (accidentally - they weren't looking for it) diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome (amusingly called The Geek Syndrome) during testing before brain surgery. No one said anything to him about it, but apparently he was aware he'd "failed" some of the tests, did some research on his own, and a few weeks later he came up with the same diagnosis. He was very excited. He'd finally found his "box of bent pieces"! We dropped it then, sort of forgot about it, because we had other more important stuff, like life and death stuff, going on.
The past few months, I've been reading books about autism in general. The past few weeks, I've been reading specifically about long-term relationships and Asperger's. One book is Asperger Syndrome and Long-Term Relationships, by Ashley Stanford, wife of an Aspie. I've been carrying it around with me to read during wait-times, and it has had me laughing out loud in automobile service stations and restaurants. It is SO VERY Jay. I recognize so much of him in her interactions with her Aspie husband.
Another book, The Other Half of Asperger Syndrome - "A guide to living in an intimate relationship with a partner who has Asperger Syndrome", by Maxine C. Aston, is not so upbeat, not so much fun. Apparently, the usual non-Aspie has a lot of unhappiness and difficulty in the relationship, because of the Aspie's different social responses. The non-Aspie has to do a lot of basically unnatural things to get the reactions she needs, and to accept that in some cases, she will just have to grin and bear it, understanding that her partner is simply incapable of understanding or doing some things.
Judging by the second book, either Jay had a mild case, or his high intelligence had enabled him to learn to fake it. And they have to learn to fake it - the connections for certain normal innate social things, like recognizing nonverbal cues, knowing what other people are thinking or feeling, those connections are simply not there in the Aspie brain. Asking them to "try harder" would be like asking someone blind since birth to try harder to see.
The reason Jay and I meshed so well was that the typical Aspie deficits didn't bother me at all, in some cases even amused me. I am the type that if I don't get what I need, I ask for it. I don't sit around waiting for it.
Jay had great difficulty making decisions, I have no difficulty, so in all but the things that were most important to him, I made all the decisions, and it didn't bother me, and he was grateful. I frankly managed him, even micromanaged him, and he appreciated it. He needed it.
The Aspie positive aspects - they, and most definitely Jay, tend to be unusually gentle, tender, loyal, higher than average in intelligence, and eager to please. This is exactly what I appreciate most in a man. I didn't have a preconceived idea of roles, and neither did he - with the exception that, in Aspie fashion, he felt it was his duty to "take care of" me, so I let him. The difference in our sizes helped him to feel that he was succeeding in that, and of course as an Aspie he never noticed the things I was doing in the background to make sure he succeeded.
Aspies usually have one all-consuming interest, which can drive those close to them crazy. Jay had several - computers, chemistry, math, photography, and practically everything else. The difference between a normal interest and an Aspie interest is the depth, and that the Aspie thinks everyone else shares their interest to the same degree, or would if they only understood the topic better (remember, they don't have the wiring to detect otherwise) and they will happily bore people to tears. Jay seemed to have learned somewhere along the line (probably painfully) that he shouldn't assume others are interested, so he never initiated conversations, but if anyone at work asked a question about almost any programming issue, they were astounded at his knowledge and his willingness, even eagerness, to share it. He was well known as the "go-to" guy for any arcane question, and for inventive solutions.
At home, he was free to indulge his passions. I learned more chemistry (complete with diagrams) than I ever wanted to. When he started explaining to me how crude oils and plastics are related, and how and why slight changes in the molecular structure cause large changes in the properties, I loved the way he got so excited, his intensity, and thinking of perspicacious questions to ask was a good mental exercise, which I enjoy, so he was happy that I seemed interested, and I was happy that he was happy. Apparently other Aspie/non-Aspie couples don't do that for each other.
Aspies have usually had a hard childhood, teased, always feeling on the outside of things, knowing that something is wrong, but not knowing what, except that it's somehow them. So Aspie men often marry older women, because Aspies aren't as concerned about social conventions, and they instinctively recognize that older women are more maternal, and it makes them feel safe. I was about 8 years older than Jay. And (oh good grief!) my favorite pet name for him was "Baby Boy"! I meant it teasingly, (when I first found out his birthdate, after we had become physically intimate, I was 46, he was 38, I said "My God, you're a baby! I'm a child molester!"), but I see now that "Baby Boy" was emotionally comforting to him. I must have unconsciously picked up on that, because until I fell into it with him, I had always considered "Baby Boy" (a southern endearment) to be demeaning.
So now I understand a lot more about our relationship. Maybe no other man can ever be like him, I won't ever mesh with anyone like that again, but that's only because most other men are "normal". And after all, a "normal" relationship can't be all that bad. Just different. Any "normal" man would just have to be strong enough to stand up to me sometimes, when I try to "handle" him the same way that was necessary with Jay, and actually, I'd kinda like that.
I'd hate to have to admit I can't be normal.
~~Silk
PS - I think there actually was some destiny involved - I fell instantly in love with him at first sight. I rounded a corner into a friend's office, and he was sitting at her keyboard, debugging something for her. My view was a south-west view of his back and side. He said "oops!" and froze, peering at the terminal, and I fell immediately in love with his intensity, and his voice, and a silky spot under and behind his left ear. I didn't know anything about his personality then. Hadn't even seen his face. But I somehow knew. Destiny.
PPS - Most descriptions of Asperger's mention physical clumsiness. Jay was unusually graceful, in body and movement. Before meeting me, he had been a competitive ballroom dancer, and a national-level square dancer. He also skied and scuba dived - more solitary pursuits. He, like most Aspies, was not interested in team sports. Most sports are social, often depending on non-verbal communication, and attempting a sport (or any social interaction) is stressful to an Aspie, resulting in frustration and awkwardness.
Links in this entry:
http://users.wpi.edu/~trek/aspergers.html
http://www.time.com/time/covers/1101020506/scaspergers.html
http://journals.aol.com/jaykolb/Moraine/entries/731
