Hamburgers by Proxy

So I sit across from you at the small table next to the wood fire grill which roasts the flat little cheesy wheat things with mushrooms that wilt over before you shove them into your mouth and I say "do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

And of course, that question is a mere formality, because who doesn't want to get asked a personal question?  Anybody with a heart anyway.  Or at least a modicum of curiosity.  So there must have been a nod, or a "yes" or some sort of wink or tacit acquiescence  because I continued....

"Blah blah blah, I say, everybody is on the spectrum to some degree blah blah blah, even me probably blah blah blah, but you ...you are you also well...well...are you on the spectrum?

And of course you aren't making eye contact at that point.  That is the whole point of the question.  That is Exhibit A.  And Exhibit B your honor is that that smiling glowing expression you make (which of course is adorable) the one where you clench your teeth and your eyes light up,  but that face even though it is ostensibly responding to me is not really directed at me, but to the imaginary person sitting next to me, or at my side, you know.  That is how I know you are responding to some sort of uncomfortable question.

"Yes," you say, blah blah blah have you heard of hamburgers by proxy?  Blah blah blah its where my brain can't make blah blah blah and I do blah blah blah and there is this gap blah blah blah blah.

And of course, when you are telling me this, I'm thinking who the frick put you into some sort of limiting pigeon hole telling you that your brain could or could not do something?  I mean really, I really want to have some sort of convo with them, and I don't care if they have some sort of initials like Ph.D or M.D. after their name, because what they have never learned in their little books is that the universe if vast and wide.  Incredibly vast and wide. And bulbous.   And anyone who tells you that you don't communicate this or that really has not seen the real glow of your aura functioning in the world.

And like that dog that sees something interesting but can't quite process it yet, I tilt my head to one side and want to tell you something like the real informational content exchanged between people is non-verbal, and I can hear you loud and clear and in the mystical space I inhabit where the energy of unit A (that being you) is transferred without any attenuation to unit B (that being me).  And moreover, your aura is absolutely blinding me in this room.   But what comes out is "I get you blah blah blah blah blah blah."

Which reminds me, while I completely engage in a non sequitur here (which is Exhibit C for both of us, your honor), there is this very small and yellow house outside of town.  I saw it late at night in one of my myriad dreams.   In fact this house is so small, maybe we should just call it a closet, that all you can do inside is lay down or bend your head so you don't hit the ceiling.  In other words, its just for sleeping and little else.  But in my mind this house on the outside is yellow and painted with neat white trim and is obviously well cared for.  But you were afraid of this house.  And did not want to talk about it.  So I won't.  I'm not sure what there is about this house that is scary.  But I'm fine for letting the house be.

In some ways, the house doesn't suit me either.  But if my friend Matt finds a nice little facility in Peru to explore the universe, one quantum entanglement at a time, I would like to spend time there in a tiny house down there with you.   And we could find out once and for all, what the source of that bright aura is.