5th Grade – Hopeless Romantic, confirmed (Hopeless Autistic)

In late 2018, I finally arrived to the litmus test of what would solidify the Hopeless Autistic status from the late 1990s, just a year before the diagnosis was brought to my attention after SHTF.

In a Facebook Messenger thread of school age friend, of which 2 years worth of conversations was actually printed out at 147 pages, for a discovery. Mind you, the only video chat occurred around this time, in late 2018. Millennials really use Facebook for pics and texts.

When I probed this Facebook-friend, I got a I don’t know with a Dory GIF, of which I thought my mother was the only one with memory issues.

It told me right there where the problem lied. Right from the beginning. Not one girl at South School had any feelings for me except for a girl in fourth grade, of which I couldn’t tell from the signal vs. the noise. As a result the girl never spoke to me ever again. This Facebook-friend was in the other end of the building in another homeroom class, while I was near the nurses office, of which marked the end of that wing, of 6 classrooms of fifth grade. No signals, no noise from any girl in her end of the building.

I started to feel nearly 20 years after I was in the regular ed, how really a simple debatable diagnosis was really the sign of many things to come, and in a hopeless sense. It’s ironic because this classmate had repeatedly told me she ” thought I’d see you on TV doing the weather”…

I never said this to that individual, but I felt severely insulted because most meteorologists are the types (when they go rogue) that FTVLive.com puts are registered sex offenders. Or Just plain weird. Or just creepy. I could tell there was some underlying tones from this classmate to indicate how odd I was without saying anything. Because there is female gender pronoun, I think the reader would assume that I had many female friends in school because the girls had more empathy to someone who lacked sympathy at the time.

Ironically the tables turned in years.


I was really hoping that there was someone special that would come into my life. She never came. The generations ignited by the Hippies from the Sixties and their offsprings, the Millennials, of which are nearly 8o to 90 million American punks. Gen Xers and Gen Zers (the Gen X offsprings) are less, but they are a hit or miss.

I don’t like this concept of people choosing to be single without a purpose. I chose to be single at 27 because I saw the writing on the wall between radical feminism, the autism stereotypes, the lack of tolerating gentleman in general; the legitimization of single parenting; and putting all fathers under a bad pretense that they are bad adult boys; has really corrupted the American social fabric. My father is no exception, he emitted free sperm and never will claim any ownership of the co-creation this individual; or admit the presence of this writer.

Due to all the abuse in my life,  I really thought there  was good people out there. I haven’t found her yet, but I don’t suspect either party will meet each other half way into a life long friendship. Because Americana Social Norms are now “complicated”

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