Introvert

As Yoda would say, “I am an introvert not.  Yes, hmmm.”

Gotta love Yoda-Speak! 

My hubby, however, is a completely different story.

I remember how frustrating it was to notice guys, presumably his ‘buddies’, tease or make fun of him while we were dating. One fellow was particularly obnoxious and it got to the point that I refused to go anywhere that guy would be in attendance.

Now that I am cognisant of Steve’s Aspie-ness, I wonder if he was even aware of the bad behavior. Possibly not.

After an irritating (to me) and frustrating (to him) conversation with Steve the other night, one that ended with him stomping out to his shop, I took a cuppa joe out to our deck to reflect on all the things that attracted me to him after we first met.

Steve was (and is) tall, dark and handsome. His dark chocolate brown eyes and killer smile make me weak-kneed.

He is super intelligent, as well as very quiet. He was always joining in fun activities, trying new things.

Little did I realize that his Aspie quietness was because his body was present, but his mind was a million miles away obsessing on his single focus interest, cars. I too love cars. We go to tons of car shows. We own tons of cars. Unfortunately, for me, most of the ones we own are torn apart or non-operable due to Steve insisting that he ‘just needs to fix’ whatever. Problem lies in the sad fact that while he thinks about lofty ideas and concepts, he does things backwards, refuses or can’t follow directions and instructions, fails to think projects through to completion and misses key elements that result in muddled messes, and doesn’t recognize his own strength or impatience so he constantly breaks things.

Breaking headbolts off in a block can totally sidetrack a rebuild. Frustration drives him to another project. Our six and a half acres are littered with abandoned ‘projects’. You can’t move in his three car shop because of the junk.

Whoops, make that ‘parts’.

As for all of the 'fun activities', Steve is a follower. He rarely initiates anything on his own. Now I just make plans on my own and invite him along. Sometimes he joins, sometimes not. I am just fine with that.

I am often asked if I had known of his Aspergers Syndrome traits and idiosyncrasies prior to our marriage, would I have still married him?

I refuse to even contemplate that question, as our youngest son’s existence hinges on our union.

Woulda, coulda, shoulda. Sometimes I think we needlessly beat ourselves up with that. Is the past calling you? Don't answer! Let it go to voice mail.

As I sip my coffee and listen to the banging out in Steve’s shop, I sigh. I am here, this is now, and I toss back my head to clear the hair in my face.

And laugh out loud as I have just tossed my coffee down the front of myself with my action!

"No longer a headbanger, am I," rings Yoda's voice in my mind!