I'd heard of this word, Aspergers, in a book I'd read a few months back. I could relate to the character it described, but have never put much faith in words as convenient labels. Still, for some reason, I was reminded of it again last night, when a colleague made a dead-pan joke, just a tad too subtle for me to recognize. There followed that inevitable, though somehow familiar, pause, wherein I recognized that my literal response somehow came off as odd, even a bit funny. I found this site in the morning, though didn't think much of it once I moved on and became absorbed in my work.
I pondered this evening as to whether the label fit enough for me to try to make contact. In pondering, I noticed how my feet, in their measured pacing around the room, seemed to know what to say better than I could. They traced out a rough circle, though constrained by the furniture, if not quite as precise as I would have liked. This rug has no easily discernible repeating pattern, you see, so my feet were forced to improvise.
In crafting this greeting, I feel as if I might be treading dangerously close to the perimeter of my defenses, inviting one of those upside down and inside out moments that life seems so fond of throwing my way. Perhaps I could have just said hello, but I hope that, in this circuitous way, I might find someone who can relate to these words that I wound up weaving.