R arrived in my life like an unfinished sentence — full of promise, pauses, and meaning tucked between the words.
He’s a researcher, just like me, though in a different world of data and evaluation. A degree in linguistics, a master’s in program evaluation so basically, a man fluent in word play and nerd. We could probably both write essays on “how meaning shifts depending on context” which, ironically, is what dating feels like half the time.
He described himself as “socially awkward, visually unappealing, and boring.” I laughed out loud. Absolutely not. Socially awkward? Thoughtful, witty, and kind. Visually unappealing? Not even close. Boring? Only if you think someone who could debate the Sapir–Whorf hypothesis for fun is dull. (He did warn me not to mention language and grammar unless I wanted a very long tangent).
From the beginning, I liked his honesty and humour. And his philosophy about relationships stayed with me — that some are fleeting, and that’s okay, as long as all forms hold honesty, kindness, care and fun. It’s the kind of emotionally intelligent perspective that instantly relaxes you.
We tried to meet a few times, but the universe seemed to be running late. Family commitments, schedule shifts and that unforgettable day when the train system stopped and he was ready to book a $250 Uber to keep our date. I told him that was ridiculous, but also — let’s be real — that kind of dedication does nice things for one’s self-esteem.
What surprised me most wasn’t frustration. It was calmness. Somewhere deep down, I felt confident we’d eventually meet. There was no urgency, no overthinking, just a quiet sense that it was inevitable. His words, messages, and small gestures of care made his interest clear.
Through my Autistic lens, I noticed how my brain still likes to check in — Is this still mutual? Is the signal still there?It’s not anxiety, it’s decoding. My logical side running a quality assurance test on emotional data. But this time, I didn’t need to over-analyse. His clarity made the connection feel safe.
From an NLP perspective, it reminded me how powerful communication style can be. The way R used language was open, kind qnd direct that created certainty without pressure. It was flow disguised as conversation.
Maybe R and I weren’t meant to meet right then. Maybe the timing wasn’t broken just paused.
Some people arrive to remind you what alignment feels like. And honestly, that’s a pretty magical lesson to hold onto.
Self-Reflection Questions
- How do I handle connection that feels “almost there” but not quite?
2. Do I equate timing with compatibility, or can I hold space for uncertainty?
3. What kind of communication helps me feel reassured when things don’t go as planned?
4. How can I stay open to possibility without needing certainty too soon?
Author’s Note
Written by Monique — a woman exploring life, love, and language through an Autistic lens. I write to make sense of the world, one connection at a time. If my words resonate, it is because understanding each other is the most human thing we can do.