What about autism
Friday, Mar. 15, 2019 - 10:20 pm.

To get this out of the way: as soon as I wrote my very passionate last entry, my lust receded. I went to art class the next day, did not care for the girl, and learned to draw with perspective. Tomorrow's my last art class, and we're doing portraits. I haven't even had the chance to practice what I've learned, but I should get to that soon. 

I was hoping to submit my thesis today, but I spent Monday to Wednesday entertaining the friends who came to visit from Chile. I regret nothing, but also I felt bad for not making the progress I wanted. I'll work on the thesis this weekend. I just have to put all the chapters together and write the acknowledgments. It's just fine-tuning now. I don't know if it's good enough. I think it's not bad, and I'll leave it at that. 

Ok, these friends. K is Andrew's long-time friend, and K's husband, G, is also a dear friend. They both were our cats' vets in Chile. I spent these three days with them willingly, which gives you an idea of how fond I am of the two of them. Andrew and I are very fond of them, and we're also grateful that they're looking after our stuff back home until we return. 

It's just sort of uncomfortable to see them interact sometimes. They come from very different backgrounds, K's family is, well, obscenely rich (e.g. her parents own a lot of land, which includes a lake and a forest with pumas, and they're building an apartment building, and will give one apartment to each of their daughters). G comes from the country. They meet in the middle through their love for animals and, I suppose, by how conservative they are. Actual mental health issues aside, K is very moody and can be rather rude sometimes, but G puts up with her because I guess he says, that's how women are.

I debated whether to come out to them or not. Then I got confident because they mentioned two same-sex couples they knew in two separate conversations. The fact that they were couples was implicit, but, you know, they were friends with both couples. Plus, I had a conversation with them, or rather with G, about the subject of my PhD, which is about how fictional narratives in the media perpetuate prejudice toward sexual and gender minorities (look at me, getting all technical). G had misconceptions and apprehensions, but he was very open to these ideas and kept the conversation going, and I felt we'd had a very interesting exchange.

And yet. I came out to them in the worst way possible. We were in a breakfast joint, Andrew had gotten up to get our orders, and G asked about the flag pin on my bag. It was the bisexual pride flag, and I said bluntly that I was bisexual. He asked "what?", and I had to repeat it, louder. I saw his face light up with surprise, and I stumbled trying to explain why each group "needed" its own flag on top of the rainbow one. I did a poor job. 

K kept playing on her phone, and I didn't even dare to look at her as I explained the particularities of biphobia. This is how she spent most of her time with us, by the way, playing on her phone when we were outside, or on Andrew's Switch when we were at home; it was annoying and frustrating. So, I failed miserably in coming out, but Andrew returned to the table and I felt lighter anyway, because this was their last day with us, and I'd struggled to find the right time to tell them this. I was out to them, and I felt relieved. 

As the day went by, and since we didn't return to the topic so I couldn't clear any misconceptions they might have, I got worried. Here I was, opening up to very conservative people who have no idea what my sexual orientation entails. They'll think I just wanted attention, or that I'll cheat on Andrew. They're friends, yes, but they're above all, conservative and objectively ignorant about this topic. Only after they left, Andrew told me that he overheard K saying, after what I thought was a fantastic conversation about media representation of trans people, that she had nothing against this topic, but what about autism? This was a big concern for schools. 

What about autism. 

My heart broke when Andrew told me that. This was the person I came out to. She is very much incapable of seeing other priorities besides her own. Bitch, you breed useless cats and sell them to people who are as rich as you. 

As soon as they left, on Wednesday evening, Andrew and I had an impromptu debriefing session. I needed to get so many things off my chest. G is great, he said a few things that showed his prejudice on certain subjects, but he engages in actual conversations where both parties get the chance to learn. He's fun to hang out with. 

K, on the other hand, can be emotionally draining. I mean, she can be a good friend, but she's so caught up in her own misery, and she has the painfully narrow mentality of a ridiculously privileged person to boot. She's very dismissive of almost everything; Andrew wondered if G ever has the chance to "feel" anything, if he can ever count on her for emotional support, because everything's always about her and how she just can't deal with the world and the stupid people in it (then again, he's very traditional, so it's likely he thinks that needing emotional support makes you less of a man).

I thought the line "I don't like humor" was just something sitcom characters said, but she actually said that, when Andrew and I asked her if she wanted to watch a comedy. She didn't want to watch anything happy. She didn't want to watch anything sad, either. And she just went on playing on the Switch without even looking at us as she spoke.  

Look, they're ok, but some things about them stress me out. How K harshly scolds G in public whenever she has the chance, like we're supposed to join in and agree with her that he's such a "parasite" for not planning anything for their trip. How K does not move a fucking finger to help around the house, our house, not touching the dishes, not even taking the kettle to pour water for her own tea. How they both started arguing about having or not children, she doesn't want kids, he does. I've seen them argue before about this, before they got married, and I remembered hoping that they'd break up then, because it was clear that they disagreed on this one thing that was fundamental for the two of them. 

Anyway! They left and I regretted coming out to them. Or not coming out per se, but rather how poorly I handled it. I did it in public, right in the few minutes when Andrew was not around to stand by my side, and I didn't think my response through. This haunted me until the next day, when Andrew comforted me and managed to make me feel better. Still, it worries me deeply that K and G represent the world I'm returning to when I leave the UK. 

I was still reeling from their visit last night. That comment about autism, I mean, that dismissal of my work (which also connects with my personal life and with horrible things happening to others) kept stinging. Plus, I was stressed with the never-ending thesis, and with the news I received, that the paper Brother #3 and I wrote was rejected by a second journal. I started to cry. I went to tell Andrew all this and he...he frowned. Like,"why are you giving so much importance to that comment?, or rejection from a journal is not the end of the world, and stuff. Basically, "get over it". I was hoping I'd find his usual support. Instead, he got mad at me for feeling sad and angry and frustrated. 

I cried a lot in the bathroom. On top of the thesis, and the journal rejection, and K, I was hurt by Andrew's reaction, so I cried harder. I didn't expect that from him. I was hurt and disappointed. I wanted to tell him that he was going to be in my position next month, when he himself was overwhelmed with the last of his thesis, and then we'd see if he liked me frowning at him when he needed comforting. I thought about sleeping in the guest room, but I'd had enough drama this week and didn't want to keep stretching it. 

We turned off the lights, and I laid on my side with my back to him. I cried some more, silently. He started softly scratching my head, which is something I really like. Then he came closer and held me. He did the same thing when we woke up in the morning. Then he made me breakfast. Since he was going to be working from home today, he sent me to the office with a packed lunch of soup, home-made croutons, and a sliced apple, because he knows I hate eating whole apples. 

I really wanted to hear him say sorry, to acknowledge that he responded to me in a crappy, totally uncalled for manner. I do think he tried to make up for it with all of the above. I mean, he is nice like that, by default, but I'm hoping he realized I just needed a shoulder to cry on and his response was that I get over it; I think it's the first time I've ever felt he's failed me. It's a silly thing, I know, and he did make up for it much more than I'd have hoped for, and I had a good day today. 

Fuck, I'm exhausted. 

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