I love my husband. he is a good man, he loves me the best he is able. He has his own pathologies (whether he wants to admit it or not) and the most wonderful, confident, stable, sane, healthy, perfectly balanced person would be hard-pressed to happily love an Aspie.
If this relationship ended, I would be hard-pressed to get along with him well enough to share custody of the kids (and would probably end up slinking away, if I didn't get driven off).
I would never, ever, in a million billion zillion trillion years, marry or get into an amative relationship with anyone ever again under any circumstances. Friends?? Sure. Friends with benefits?? No way. Anything beyond that?? NO WAY IN HELL.
My parents divorced in 1980; sometime in the mid-80s, my mother decided she realized she'd made an awful mistake and begged my dad to take her back. He thought about it, and ultimately decided that, having had his heart broken once, he would never be able to trust her again, and besides that, they still had the same basic personalities and would run up against the same problems with the same result.
I felt for my mother at the time (and still do). But my dad had the right idea. They had a good divorce, and there was no point in messing it up trying to be married again. My dad was a real smart guy.
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"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"