Hello everyone. I have never been in a forum, which speaks to my need for a special kind of support I know I can only find among people who have experienced a neurodiverse relationship, and had it end. So, I'm hoping you're out there somewhere with words of wisdom, encouragement, solace - whatever you think might help.
I am 58 years old and met my now ex on an online dating site. He was kind, chivalrous, interesting, funny, but had a quirkiness that, while endearing, went a little beyond cute and into the realm of "he might be on the spectrum." I recognized it shortly after our lovely first date, as I have taught public school for over thirty years and have worked with many diagnosed children of all ages. There was a complete absence of flirtatious behavior, and virtually no touch at all outside of the bedroom. I asked him if me kissing and cuddling with him was uncomfortable for him and he said no, but never initiated it himself. His rigidity (an avid cyclist) was next level, and I believe his eating to be highly disordered as well. There was much with regard to courting and developing an intimate relationship that just seemed to not be on his radar. He often needed to spend days alone to recharge, and if he was in a social situation that was taxing him too much, I had to bear the brunt of some pretty serious melt-downs as soon as we were alone, as I do believe he felt understood and safe with me. While this was extremely challenging at times, I made a conscious choice and effort to understand his needs to regulate on his cycle, for hundreds of miles a week, to fast most of the day, often leaving us at the dinner table in restaurants with him drinking a diet pepsi while I ate, and perhaps most difficult of all, to suddenly back off from time to time with little or no explanation. Once, I was in Europe for a few weeks, and he called every day, sometimes twice a day, a sign, I assumed, that he was missing me. When I returned, I told him I was home, expecting a suggestion for a meet-up after our time apart, and he simply stopped communicating with me. Zero explanation. I reached out only a few times, not begging or pleading with insane behavior, but to tell him I was thinking of him. Nothing. Until three months later, when I had moved on and could breathe again. He resurfaced as though nothing had happened. We met for coffee. He apologized for "not having been there for me," and then proceeded to call, text, and ask me out all the time. Unbearably confusing, but I went for it. We had a wonderful several months after that and I felt as though he was really making an effort to be there for me. And then suddenly, it happened again, although my feelings for him were really intensifying and I was being a little more affectionate and intimate with my words, so perhaps that was what caused him to back away again. This time, he didn't just ghost, but said that he wanted to be friends, again stating that it was all hard for him and he didn't have the energy for it. I asked him what just friends would look like, and decided after getting together with him a couple of times as friends, I know I am far too much in love with him to be platonic. He was right, of course; I'd always want more. He could have done friends no problem; sometimes I think what he really ever wanted was a quasi-girlfriend; a faithful companion without all of the trappings of intimacy he finds so difficult. And the occasional sex. He never had any problems initiating that. In the end, my friends, I couldn't do it.
So, here I sit, typing away amidst the tears and anxiety, trying to move forward (we have been no contact for only a week - I asked him not to contact me and he's quite altruistic - I know he will comply, and let's face it - he broke up with me). I guess I just want to express how brutal this one is. At my age, I've suffered some pretty intense heartbreak. But never in my life have I worked so hard to show compassion and the understanding of someone's needs, often putting them before mine. Never before have I had the soul-connection I felt with him in spite of the lack of physical affection or verbal expressions of love. And yet I still didn't end up "getting the guy."
I know some will encourage me to go into why I worked so hard to love someone who couldn't love me back in certain ways; trust me - I have a great counselor and we are going there. And you'll ask why on Earth I got back with him after the 3 months of ghosting on his part. I know, I know. But he fed me in so many ways, and I loved him dearly. Obviously, I wasn't being honest when I told myself I knew what I was signing on for and could handle it. Actually, I think I could have and so wanted to try, but if only one of us wanted to do the work, it just wasn't ever going to happen. It just stings so badly to see him move on so easily - I see he has already been connecting with an ex-girlfriend daily on Strava (trying to stay out of that rabbit hole - trust me, but it's not easy). I suppose what I need most right now is understanding and encouragement to keep breathing and move on with dignity. This one did a number on me. Thanks so much for your time.
I am 58 years old and met my now ex on an online dating site. He was kind, chivalrous, interesting, funny, but had a quirkiness that, while endearing, went a little beyond cute and into the realm of "he might be on the spectrum." I recognized it shortly after our lovely first date, as I have taught public school for over thirty years and have worked with many diagnosed children of all ages. There was a complete absence of flirtatious behavior, and virtually no touch at all outside of the bedroom. I asked him if me kissing and cuddling with him was uncomfortable for him and he said no, but never initiated it himself. His rigidity (an avid cyclist) was next level, and I believe his eating to be highly disordered as well. There was much with regard to courting and developing an intimate relationship that just seemed to not be on his radar. He often needed to spend days alone to recharge, and if he was in a social situation that was taxing him too much, I had to bear the brunt of some pretty serious melt-downs as soon as we were alone, as I do believe he felt understood and safe with me. While this was extremely challenging at times, I made a conscious choice and effort to understand his needs to regulate on his cycle, for hundreds of miles a week, to fast most of the day, often leaving us at the dinner table in restaurants with him drinking a diet pepsi while I ate, and perhaps most difficult of all, to suddenly back off from time to time with little or no explanation. Once, I was in Europe for a few weeks, and he called every day, sometimes twice a day, a sign, I assumed, that he was missing me. When I returned, I told him I was home, expecting a suggestion for a meet-up after our time apart, and he simply stopped communicating with me. Zero explanation. I reached out only a few times, not begging or pleading with insane behavior, but to tell him I was thinking of him. Nothing. Until three months later, when I had moved on and could breathe again. He resurfaced as though nothing had happened. We met for coffee. He apologized for "not having been there for me," and then proceeded to call, text, and ask me out all the time. Unbearably confusing, but I went for it. We had a wonderful several months after that and I felt as though he was really making an effort to be there for me. And then suddenly, it happened again, although my feelings for him were really intensifying and I was being a little more affectionate and intimate with my words, so perhaps that was what caused him to back away again. This time, he didn't just ghost, but said that he wanted to be friends, again stating that it was all hard for him and he didn't have the energy for it. I asked him what just friends would look like, and decided after getting together with him a couple of times as friends, I know I am far too much in love with him to be platonic. He was right, of course; I'd always want more. He could have done friends no problem; sometimes I think what he really ever wanted was a quasi-girlfriend; a faithful companion without all of the trappings of intimacy he finds so difficult. And the occasional sex. He never had any problems initiating that. In the end, my friends, I couldn't do it.
So, here I sit, typing away amidst the tears and anxiety, trying to move forward (we have been no contact for only a week - I asked him not to contact me and he's quite altruistic - I know he will comply, and let's face it - he broke up with me). I guess I just want to express how brutal this one is. At my age, I've suffered some pretty intense heartbreak. But never in my life have I worked so hard to show compassion and the understanding of someone's needs, often putting them before mine. Never before have I had the soul-connection I felt with him in spite of the lack of physical affection or verbal expressions of love. And yet I still didn't end up "getting the guy."
I know some will encourage me to go into why I worked so hard to love someone who couldn't love me back in certain ways; trust me - I have a great counselor and we are going there. And you'll ask why on Earth I got back with him after the 3 months of ghosting on his part. I know, I know. But he fed me in so many ways, and I loved him dearly. Obviously, I wasn't being honest when I told myself I knew what I was signing on for and could handle it. Actually, I think I could have and so wanted to try, but if only one of us wanted to do the work, it just wasn't ever going to happen. It just stings so badly to see him move on so easily - I see he has already been connecting with an ex-girlfriend daily on Strava (trying to stay out of that rabbit hole - trust me, but it's not easy). I suppose what I need most right now is understanding and encouragement to keep breathing and move on with dignity. This one did a number on me. Thanks so much for your time.
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