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This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Tuesday, 27 November 2018

To Live To Love

I was partially planning an update, all about where things are and what has and has not changed. To put my mournful style into context with ruminations on my lack of luck with love-related matters - perhaps my ASD has always preyed on me and my dealings with women to the extent that the current situation is, indeed, the best I can get.

But then Tilly actually brought it up. By going through the medium that my brother and I are both irreparably broken when it comes to birthdays and Christmas, and how hard that is for her and my brother's wife and how it is likely down to my mother and how angry that makes her; via a detour through how much I suck the joy from all gatherings and occasions, with a stop-over at how much I ruined last Christmas with our deep and meaningful about my diagnosis and subsequent decision(?) to wear underwear - not so named but hinted at strongly - Tilly admitted that she was winding herself up.

What if we couldn't kick-start our relationship again? What if we tried to be physical and she couldn't give a shit? That would end in divorce, so I had said, and that was terrible. It's not just the security, she says, but it is also is - because she wouldn't have that and asking for me to continue to support things would be unfair. Sooner or later she would lose the house and that would be the end of everything. I explained that my own planning was, if it came to that, I was prepared to work on the support so that she would at least have the house until the youngest was 14. My aim was 18, that might not happen, but I wasn't going to let decisions about our children we took together unravel because of that. Equally, I respected her too much to leave her in penury, at least until she had the time to find another relationship.

She hugged me. Said it was nice. Said it helped. She was winding herself up. Nothing more has been said.

Tilly is no closer. Sometimes she wants to end it all and sometimes she wants to make a change. She's scared of a divorce. That does rather suggest an overall direction, to be fair.

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