I have issues interpreting people very much because of my Asperger’s to begin with, even now, writing here. One of the only things I am quite certain of is that she does love me.
When I were 19 or so, I bailed on going on a trip to another country with my brother. I have a very hard time with big changes, and trips can be very hard. And since I was (still am, but less now) so afraid of conflicts and letting people down, I went to the forest near my home and sat there the whole night and morning so I would miss our departure. I did think a little bit about killing myself then, since I was so disappointed in myself and sad, but it wasn’t serious at all.
When I came home later she hugged me and cried, since she thought I was attempting to kill myself. I genuinely thought until that moment that she couldn’t possibly love me.
Though I run this site, it is not mine. It's ours. It's not about me. It's about us. Your stories and your wisdom are just as meaningful as mine. 