My Rock
Who needs friends when you have a rock?
I’ve thought this more than once over the years.
It all started with my first serious girlfriend, at the age of 14. When most people start to discover the opposite sex, they discover a whole new set of emotions to deal with, and I was no exception. Along with all of the usual ones, I also discovered that knowing someone intimately lead to a feeling of fulfilment and calm in me that I’d not experienced before. I felt safe and complete. This was what life was meant to be like.
Six months later the inevitable happened, and we broke up. I felt bereaved, and was inconsolable for weeks. It felt like the stability in my life had suddenly been removed, without warning. My ex-girlfriend, in common with most other 14 year olds wasn’t too concerned with our split, and within weeks was seeing someone else. This just rubbed salt into my wounds.
Now, you might call this the normal response of losing a loved one, and of course that is part of it, but this was about losing so much more. That first serious girlfriend of mine had become my first rock.
I’ve always found making friends to be difficult. Keeping those that I do make has also proved troublesome – I’m bad at the usual chit-chat that people use to communicate. In keeping my thoughts to myself I’ve let many friends drift away over the years.
This is where my rock comes in. By having a very close relationship with someone, I’ve been able to concentrate my limited capacity to communicate openly and share with that one person. In return, the other person has reciprocated. Suddenly, with this wonderful harmoniousness between two people in place, it’s not mattered that I don’t have any other friends. My rock is my friend, my confidante, my lover, everything that I need.
After my first came my second. Once again, this was in the form of a girlfriend, and this time the relationship stuttered to a halt after eighteen months or so. I was left feeling broken, battered, and not knowing where to turn.
The pattern has continued ever since, one rock at a time, and mostly with the rock being my then girlfriend. These days my rock is my wife.
To answer my own question that I posed at the top, everyone needs friends, even me.
I can see that these days, and I’m starting to make more of an effort to engage with people who are suitable friends. Of course, having AS means that I find this difficult.
I also realise that being someone’s rock isn’t easy. People with Asperger’s aren’t easy to live with – there’s no getting away from that fact. We need partners who understand and tollerate, but even the most understanding person in the world needs time out. Without friends to fall back on, it’s easy to see how your rock might not appreciate the constant intensity of, well, everything that you place on them.
I owe all my rocks down the years a debt of gratitude, but my wife, who has been there during the bad times as well as the good deserves the biggest thanks. She is wonderful.
Now, if only someone could give me a definition of ‘friend’ that made sense to me…
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