Green Glass Love

I spent today alone. That’s not exactly true. I spent today surrounded by people... but I was alone.

“Just an ordinary day” I told myself as I got dressed for work. “Nothing special” I thought as I brushed my hair. “It’s not even a real holiday” I argued as I drove myself to work. Ok, I’ll say it: “I hate Valentine’s Day!”

I didn’t always hate Valentine’s Day. I used to be a girl who dreamed of a once in a lifetime love. I wanted nothing more than to have someone who loved me more than anything. Someone to laugh with and cry with. Someone to grow old with. Someone to be mine. Someone to have a family with. Someone who would be there beside me unconditionally.

I grew up listening to show-tunes. One of my favorite concepts was the “green glass love” from Thoroughly Modern Millie: a love that would be the same whether he were a prince or a pauper. I used to dream of the day that I would find my green glass love.

Over the past several weeks, I’ve become a part of, well I guess you could call it a “fandom”... It’s a daily vlog channel called The Frey Life. It features a husband and wife duo, my age, named Peter and Mary. They have the most beautiful green glass love I have ever seen. Mary has CF and Peter is with her through the good, the bad, and the ugly (or in Mary’s case pukey). I have to admit that when I watched the first vlog, I fell in love with Peter. Not that way! I fell in love with the idea of him. I fell BACK in love with the idea that someone existed who would be loyal and true in all instances, not just when it suited him. I loved seeing a love that saw beyond health problems. I love that every vlog ends with Peter and Mary’s smiling faces, even if it’s not the best time. I want a Peter of my own.

That’s where life gets tricky. You see, I’d kind of already given up on that...

DAD IF YOU’RE READING THIS BLOG POST, PLEASE STOP RIGHT NOW.

Four years ago today, I thought I was in love. I was having dinner with the man of my dreams. The ring of my dreams was on my finger. I thought life was perfect. I truly thought I’d found the man I was going to marry.

Unfortunately, my Aspergers (then undiagnosed) presented a serious problem.

I lost that love because I couldn’t be intimate. I can’t be intimate. Just thinking about the act makes my skin crawl and my heart race and I get all nauseas. I wanted things to work with my love; I really did. I tried to convince myself that it would be worth it; that I needed to give him what he needed so that I could keep him. I don’t know whether it was fortunately or unfortunately, but no matter what, I couldn’t convince myself. The last weekend we spent together he gave me a back massage. All at once I got nauseas and raced for the bathroom. I hid out there until we had to leave the room. Later that night he and I fought. He accused me of leading him on and playing with him and I had no real defense because I didn’t understand what was happening any better than he did. I will NEVER forget being on the phone with my mother (while in a hotel room with him), being screamed at to the point that I was afraid.

With that said, I didn’t give up on love because I was afraid or even because of him. I gave up because I AM afraid that it will become a recurring situation.

My history with men leaves much to be desired. My first boyfriend was gay. We dated for TWO YEARS! He came out on prom night. YEOW! My next boyfriend was NOT boyfriend material. He was a liar, a bad-boy, and he hurt me in a way that I will never recover from. Then there was the boy I mentioned; my lost love... and for a lovely bookend, one more gay boyfriend.

So I began to wonder: am I setting myself up to fail at love? The question makes sense. How many bad choices do you need to make before you wonder if you’re anticipating the outcome? The idea of being intimate has been such a locked off topic in my mind for so long that I wonder if I am purposely getting into relationships with people who I KNOW I won’t become intimate with. If I am, I’m my own biggest obstacle.

I question all of this because I’ve begun to wonder if my life has to be this way. I have a friend with Aspergers who has a husband and a son and she’s truly happy. At the same time, my Aspergers is preventing me from having a husband and a child; two things that would make me very happy. I’m not a desperate woman sitting at my computer writing this in the hopes that someone will read it and decide to go out with me. I’m writing this as an open letter to the Aspergers community. I need help. I want to change my future. I want to believe that love can come my way. Any helpful comments would be most appreciated.