I think on some level I've been blaming my #autism on my terrible, terrible 'romantic' history.

Wow, I just noticed I did something up there. I said "my autism." I never say that. Why did I say that just now?

Ok, I know. I meant it as a trait or quality, like my really sexy arms.

I might legitimately have some degree of body dysmorphia by the way but that's probably gonna have to wait.

Also yes, I am high but I'm getting kind of annoyed with it, because I keep doing what I'm doing right now.

Back to the point: no serious long term romantic attachments. That makes it sounds like I've been a carefree Lothario. Hang on, I don't actually know what a Lothario is and need to look it up.

Yes, I was not one of those. That sounds dope as fuck though.

Oh wait, I thought about it for a second and that does sound like a working definition of a certain type of deeply ironic Hell Realm.

Hey #actuallyautistic community, is it permissible to speculate about our allistic alternate reality selves?

What the fuck am I talking about.

Oh yeah, I started feeling sorry for myself about how I've officially #EndedUpAlone because I'm #actuallyautistic and NOT because I'm some uniquely bad and broken person who never found love because he didn't deserve it.

Whew.

But then I thought — wait, I know a few happy autistic couples. They might not *know* they're autistic yet, but they made it work somehow while I *drumroll* fucked up every #romantic entanglement I've ever been in.

Oh right, I actually forgot. I figured out that I'm #aromantic.

I need to go outside.

My point is, I can't tease apart my #autism and my #aromanticism.