An Aspergers Reflection

For the longest time, I've had such a difficulty explaining what Aspergers actually means. It's hard to explain something you hardly understand yourself.

The biggest question I've been trying to figure out is why can I relate so much to fictional characters when I find it so hard to relate to real people. I've compiled a list of probable cause:

• I can observe as analytically as I wish without the character popping through the screen and telling me off for being a stalker.
• Fictional characters are more perfect than real people would ever hope to be.
• ...okay, so those are the only two things I could figure.

While I was crying over the death of a fictional character (and while my brother-in-law was judging me the whole time), I realized that I wasn't so much sad that the character died. I was torn apart at the grief that I saw on the main character's face when she realized she just lost someone she loves in the most permanent way.

That, I think, is the purest representation of Aspergers that I've found so far. I recognize emotions on other people and absorb the emotion into myself. 

Whether or not that makes any sense, it's a thing that I needed to share.

Until next time.