Of course, the common portrayal of love is the unity found between two people, preferably in the form of something that lasts. For the first 27 years of my life, I’d had not even a taste of such. It caused me to develop some rather detrimental conclusions about myself and love itself. Paralyzing me with insecurity and worry for longer than what I’d argue to be natural. It was a lonely dark existence. My place of home as a result of that blockade was in aerospace and its complexity, but eventually, the social naivety born from the disconnection plagued my every move in life; my love for machines was held behind by my ignorance of how people themselves worked. Speaks volumes for how little I knew of myself. From how I sought stability to how I defined what would make me whole. Under the premise that I wasn’t already complete of course; which I can comfortably argue that I wasn’t.
Years of hopelessness and social isolation later, I begin connecting with people in my hometown. Only because I moved back as a last ditch effort. Prior to that, I was in the cities, and poor, very poor. The hometown I hadn’t resided in since 2001 when I was but 8 years of age. Slowly but surely my name started to become known. Because the town started allowing me to break out of my shell, I brought a friend with a few times and he felt the same. Eventually, he’d introduced me to a girl and my life started taking a strange turn. If I had to call it anything, it was a road to reveal why love is blind. Humbling experience if I must say so.
The night things took a turn was probably one of my lowest; like being so close to the door of opportunity but without a key. I began feeling ways I’d never felt before; reflecting and orbiting the nothing that I was. Involuntarily, I took my lit cigarette and began tapping it on my left hand. Not sure why, it just happened. All the while tears were streaming down my face. I decided to retreat from the environment out to my car. The girl my friend introduced me to followed me out without my awareness. I was bawling my eyes out and she opened my car door, reached in, and gave me a hug saying “I don’t know how or why I met you, but I’m so glad I did. It pains me to see you like this”.
Hit me like a shovel to the face, it was the first girl to ever show me an ounce of compassion, especially at such a low point in my life. We went to my cousin’s house and spent the night. I woke up to realize the cigarette burn was in the shape of a perfect heart. It was a message. If I could’ve told myself anything I’d simply say “buckle up sweet heart!”. Eventually, a month later, this girl became my first kiss that the age of 27.
I wanted intimacy but I felt experiencing it to be impossible, I felt unworthy of it. Once I experienced that kiss, I was star struck. I spent night after night aimlessly driving, with that kiss replaying in my mind. I could still feel the aftershocks of her lips quivering on mine. I didn’t know what to say; again, socially paralyzed.
This wasn’t Eden however, that was to come. Obviously in the form of an accident. I spent the year riding motorcycles with my first social group ever. My mind that had grown almost use to hell began seeing another side of life, the side I never thought I’d find. Meanwhile, I was still a nothing. In August, I had a motorcycle accident that scared me out of my own skin quite literally. I blacked out only to wake up washing my hands off in a sink. First thought that came to mind was, “where the hell did I go?”. Months later I’d realize the answer was in my question. One thing I have to say about hell is, you’d never go into it if you could see beyond the gate.
I had the fright of death fresh in my mind and I began confronting life and it’s purpose a month later. That very morning I woke up and something was different. It took me a few hours to really realize what’d changed. If I could simplify it, I’d say I’d lost all the weight on my shoulders that I was carrying as a result of not being social for so long, and every little conclusions I’d made about myself through that desert. So, obviously in the beginning, it was pure heaven. I’ll never forget any of what’d occurred after because I long to return.
I go about my life as usual but, without the little demon in my head. I’ve also simplified this point as the moment I lost the voice in my head that’d always fed me with doubts. The catch is, I believe everyone I’d gotten to know within the year had very similar doubts. The only thing that’d numbed them was being social; emotional dependance. Meanwhile, I’d only just become social. My social naivety was about to see the light of day.
I hang out with my friends one weekend but, instead of my usual calm self, this me was on cloud 9. I’d accepted my fate essentially. I realized that, without the accident, I’d never had learned what I had. Little did I know, there was far more to be learned as if my naivities meant something.
I self to the first girl I saw and struck up a simple conversation. I just wanted to say hi so I did that then left to play a game of pool with a friend. However, after shaking her hand I felt something in my chest. That feeling still comes at random to this day, 3 years later. Midst game, she walked up and asked if we could play a game, so we did.
This was my Eden moment. I knew the pain in my chest has something to do with her but I wasn’t sure what. We didn’t say much, we just played a game and kept to ourselves. The second game however I was rushed with a feeling like I was finally home. I should’ve interpreted it as a red flag in all honesty. I’ve tried, for three years, to describe how at peace I felt around her while simply playing a game of pool but, nothing suffices. Once the game ended she’d asked for a ride home to her father’s so I did.
I had 4 other friends to drop off but, once they were I finally had a moment alone with her. Half way I asked a question I now wish I’d never asked. Such an innocent question with detrimental consequences. “What’s your last name?” “Eisen” My eyes opened like an owl, I looked at her, “Wait, that’s German for iron!” “How the hell did you know that!!?” Should I have been honest or was keeping my mouth shut the better option? You decide.
2 years prior, before being social and having friends to associate with, I began having a strange obsession for meteorites. I was also undergoing a moment of limerence over a girl I barely talked to. Because of how hopeless I was in those days, I held a meteorite in my hands thinking to myself, “if I ever get married, I’ll fashion one into a pair of wedding bands”. At least if I told her, it would’ve been like quickly removing a band-aid instead of the shit I underwent as a result of my hard-to-express feelings… What really did me in was the fact I had the feeling before she even mentioned her name. For your information, iron is a prominent element in the meteorites I fancy. Look up Widmanstatten, you’ll see why.
I lost that meteorite 7 days before I shook her hand. On Halloween night, a girl asked why I looked so down. I told her, what could be the dumbest thing I’ve ever said. “because I believe I’ve just met my future wife”. A week after, I found a larger meteorite. The downside to this Eden was, I was finding the side of myself that could stand up against anyone with faith. Before that, I was too weak for anything. But, given that I’d changed so suddenly, nobody really had anything good to say. I lost my social life and was back to ground zero like Humpty Dumpty.
This year is already interesting. I’ve run into Eisen twice and I’m starting to be reacquainted with the people I’d gotten to know that year. The problem is, I know the psychological context to why I did what I did. Most aren’t interested in details that completely undo what they’ve concluded about me. A takeaway from all of this, and the main reason I had the confidence I did was because I’d realized the reason I was socially estranged for so long was due to something I thought I could never dispute. Special education for 8 years due to the diagnosis of Aspergers I was given at 8. It was seclusive with hindered my social intelligence. That was until all of this had occurred. Being social was the first part of the puzzle to fill in the blank within my mind. Which also came at the cost of both, loosing it and having my name stained.
Let’s just say, if you were psychologically imprisoned to such a degree through social naivety and for so long, it requires a social life in order to undo any of it. Which also becomes the victim depending on the social environments’ level of humility. It was hell, what can I say?
There’s no need to run!
