I agree. There would be those are mature/aware enough to decide they want to be in a relationship with someone from their early teens, presumably individuals exist who would be so even below that, although I personally wouldn't go there, I mean shit, the world record for a pregnancy is something like five years of age (no shit, not ADVOCATING such behaviour, its repugnant, merely conjecturing that the hormonal changes that would biologically neccessarily have taken place to permit reproductive capacity in the physical, biological sense of producing a living progeny, would presumably influence secondary sexual characteristics also.
And there are those who would never be able to, unless they find exactly the right sort of person, the one in a hundred or more chance of the guy not being an exploitative asshole.
What matter to me most, is that it is consensual, and so before the fact, at least, in how I conduct myself towards others, and that it's a partnership of equals, intended to further the greater good of the pair.
I have a guess as to that possibly being why I have little to no reservations about what lengths I am willing to go to to protect or if too late, strike back at a loved one, because a lot of mine, couldn't do so for themselves, as I don't rule out getting with spesh-as-fuck girls, autie or otherwise, just so long as they WANT to be with me, and that I make sure I word anything in a way that isn't going to be mistaken, for such people, relationship-wise, I go the extra distance to make sure that there is no unilateral advantage on my side.
As for my ex fiancee, I panicked and told her it was over, we stayed friends, for an all too short time, after the last relationship I was in at the time (one of only twice in my life I've ever cheated, both when young, the first time being more or less a relationship which hadn't really even been set solid, hours, in my last spazz school. Not something I'll do again, to anyone, not that type, to think 'grass is always greener on the other side', the second and last time was when I met my former fiancee, I wouldn't call our first meeting cheating on the girl I was with at the time, since that was actually forced on me, and I never even saw it coming until the tree hit me and some smoking hot kanner's chick had just shoved her tongue down my neck, but in going along with continuing it after, I did. Although in my defense, there, I had already decided to cut and run from the NT, because it was something that I HATED, I mean, literally, she'd ring my phone and I'd feel like I just contracted norovirus after eating mexican food. And basically only reason I stayed as long as I did, was because I didn't want to let her down hard all the same. Ended it the next time I saw her, and would have regardless.
Didn't want to get burnt twice. It's only looking back, that I know now I would give anything to take that rash decision back. I loved her so damn much, at the time, that I couldn't even see it for the intensity it was, not quite anyway, obviously, I knew I lived for her, that much was obvious to me, but the depth to which the compatibility ran, it was something I've only ever come near to feeling for since, once. Well, once with someone who actually knew about it and dated, the other, either doesn't know, because I've never said a word about it to her, kassiane S, aka 'rettdevil', or, being the smart lil cookie she is she worked it out spazz or no spazz, and just decided not to say anything about it.
As for my ex fiancee, I'm pretty damn sure we'd have ended up back together, I'd have forgiven her very quickly, most people no, her, I'd have given the second chance she deserved. Only thing was, and here's the real gutripper, I got locked out of my msn messenger acct that I used to talk to her, could never get back in, my other means of arranging contact was by phone, but stupidly, I'd not written her number down on paper. I had it on my mobile, which I got nicked, after some pikey bitch got me drinking with a couple of her pikey tosser mates, probably planned something all along. So I abruptly, and involuntarily lost contact, and with her living in a far off part of the city outskirts, I had no visual map to guide me, I relied on her knowing where SHE lived, and meeting in the middle of town, or at a predetermined met tram stop, getting back on and returing to her own place with her, so I COULDN'T just go and seek her physically, and I presume the same likewise.
It's the worst thing, that ever happened to me, in my entire life, making that stupid hot-headed fight-or-flight response-dictated decision (flight, of course, as I would have quite literally, given my own life in exchange for hers, and the very idea of raising a hand to her in violence, I couldn't have done it, I'm just damn glad she wasn't into the BDSM scene, because I physically COULDN'T have done it, even at her own insistence, it's just something weird we had. I'd have stepped into the path of a bullet for her in the hopes it'd be a hollowpoint and lose most of it's inertia in killing me, to give her time to get away, but to actually hurt her, I could no more do it, than I can change the colour of my eyes by willpower alone.
But we got forcibly parted, from being friends, the contact links were simultaneously severed, or nearly so, and I had no way TO beg her forgiveness for my rashness. (yes, I do know that the fault at the root of the problem was not mine own, but all the same, she just had an effect on me. Crack...could take it or leave it, same goes for heroin, but that girl, she was just...something else entirely. It was spooky, she just had some sort of effect on me I can't explain.
I mean, I'd just seen her batter a guy to the ground with steel toe-capped combat boots, a petite 14yo knocking the living shit out of a built, older guy, in sheer fury at getting in between the two of us, before we'd even first met, and then using me to try and beat a tree trunk to death....normally, no matter who or what, that would trigger an automatic fight-flight response, immediate violence likely, but her...I couldn't even bring myself to think of it.
I might well have popped a few paintballs upside her arse, since we met at a spazz group organized paintball game, but I probably didn't even shoot for her, despite it being a free for all, and the rest of the autie/aspies running through the woods, no organization, no squad leadership, whilst I headed in the opposite direction and started firing from a prone position after applying camo facepaint, and being dressed entirely in woodlands camo gear (old house staff at my last spazz school as ex SAS, I've actually got his beret somewhere, as well as a real good combat camo coat, in woodlands/jungle patterning, both gifts from him) and took up a great position right at the far end of the free-for-all, right out of sight, and picking targets off with single aimed shots)
Shit, it was the ONLY argument we EVER had. Not once, that I can recall, had we ever fought, even had a difference of opinion worth voicing, save for one thing I said I couldn't do right then, right there, in the place we were at the time, as it could land me a jail sentence and probably having to stab people daily to avoid BEING stabbed, and that wasn't an argument, just me telling her I couldn't risk doing a certain something in public in front of onlookers, due to the age differential, didn't bother either of us, but others would see fit to have locked me up and thrown away the key.
If it hadn't been for the three events happening one very rapidly after another, first the breakup, and then the losing my email/messenger acct. and getting jacked by pikey dickends and losing my phone, we'd probably have been married from the moment it became legal. I'd already got an engagement ring for her, shit, it didn't even take us a week to know we were for each other.
Just...fuck. Fuck life and karma right in the southern one-eyed chocolate starfish with a rusty razorblade nailbomb and call me Mariae, Christus mater, worst fuckup on my part ever.
Including the kinds that involved firing a grenade launcher down a tunnel, whilst standing in the end, not realizing as a kid the shockwaves would rebound and knock the stuffing out of my senses, or covering much of the back lawn in a blazing infernal greenish-blinding white fire and MASSIVE clouds of white acid fumes from glassware that cracked during a distillation of several hundred grams of white phosphorus at and above it's boiling point.
