0 
0 By Anon
The intriguing lady
I’ll never have that*
That smile that made my heart melt
I’ll never have that
The kind things she does
I’ll never have that
The way she moves
I’ll never have that
The special something that bewitched me
I’ll never have that
That lingering hug
I’ll never have that
The look that says ‘I want you’
I’ll never have that
Sneaking away from the crowd together
I’ll never have that
The weekends away, meeting the family, the talk of moving in together
I’ll never have that
The breakups, the makeups, the arguments, the solidarity
I’ll never have that
The pain of trying, the hopes and the lust,
Composing pain-staked messages that may as well be dust,
Heartache, rejection, confusion and doubt,
The chasamous expanse of my loving, giving heart,
So much to offer, so much to share, oh so much of which you are not aware,
That is mine and mine alone.
* Note.
In the first paragraph of this poem l use the descriptor ‘that’.
Please note that I do not see women as objects or as something that can be mine, as a possession or right.
I am very much the feminist.
The world feels like a place populated by couples and families. Failing that, people have relationships, FWB, hookups, whatever.
Even the most antisocial and those that openly try to control partners seem to end up with someone.
My ASD diagnosis was no surprise
I struggle a lot, because if I’m attracted to someone I seize up, and the brain that is always struggling to find subjects of conversation, outside of my current obsessive themes, pretty much becomes useless.
I suffer with anxiety, depression and have very recently been diagnosed as having an autism spectrum disorder.
The ASD diagnosis was no surprise. I have suspected it for a long time.
Recently a couple of friends who work with people on the spectrum, and also one who has recently been diagnosed, had mentioned, when talking about our head issues, that they thought it would be worth getting assessed, so I got to setting it up.
The diagnosis was, to me, vindication in a way. Many of the times I get overwhelmed, obsess, struggle to read people, etc are explained.
My anxiety and depression are also most likely made a lot worse, or even caused, at least in part, by living for 42 years this way.
Loneliness
By far, the greatest part of all this is loneliness.
You see I’ve been single practically my whole life.
Sure, I’ve had a few short relationships, the longest of which was about 2 months, and yes, I’ve had a handful of one night stands, but I have gone years between them, close to a decade at a couple of points.
This, among other things, have created a sense that I am different, that something is wrong with me. Why else would it be that I seem to struggle, more than anyone else I know, to attain anything approaching a sexual relationship?
I have tried every approach I can think of and most that others have suggested, joined dating sites, carefully picked matches and crafted messages to the best of my ability, showing interest in their pastimes and trying the odd joke, approaching people cold, trying to form friendships and doing and saying what I think are subtle signs that I am interested in them as more than just friends.
Just failure after failure.
With some, I have got to the point where I think they might be open to me making a move, as it were, getting closer, I don’t know. I just can’t read it. I’m fraught and frozen with anxiety, unsure if they are inviting me to move in or just being friendly.
I just don’t know what the hell I’m doing
There has only ever been a couple of people I have felt at ease with and who I thought wanted me, but alas, I fell by the wayside.
Again I am sure it is my odd and awkward ways that have deterred them, whether they are consciously aware of it or not.
Hope seems like a perilous endeavour, as rejection is always the outcome.
My efforts to make my feelings known to someone are immense. Even the very subtle suggestions tie me in knots and drain me.
The weight of loneliness is immense, the self-doubt and self-deprivation it brings about are inescapable, the reminders of what I can’t have are everywhere.
Being alone is what will finish me.
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