moonflowerreed

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simone weil

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Simone Weil, Gravity and Grace, 1947

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A man drinks a glass of water. The water is God's "I love you". He is two days in the desert without finding anything to drink. The dryness in his throat is God's "I love you". God is like an importunate woman who clings to her lover, whispering in his ear for hours without stopping: "I love you- I love you- I love you- I love you..."

Simone Weil, First and Last Notebooks, trans. Richard Rees

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Simone Weil, 'Void and Compensation' (in Gravity and Grace, trans. Emma Craufurd)

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imagining closeness + the struggle to connect

growing up, I was very shielded from the outside world. my mom did this for very good reasons, she did what any other mother would do if they found out about the abuse my father put me through. every time I wanted to spend time with a friend they and their parents would have to undergo her background check. I'm very lucky, because of how much she cared about me.

I would always have one or two friends. Typical experience of a neurodivergent kid generally. Eventually, in middle school, I started to see that even those few friends would always be closer to each other than I was to them. I would peek into their worlds and learn about how many secrets they shared, how often they texted, so on.

I still experience this. I consistently live wondering if I am only imagining closeness.

Recently I realized I was doing just that. An acquaintance told me about how someone who I had truly opened my heart to spoke about me. I had been excited about this friend because I felt like we were close, like we could share intense and emotional experiences with one another. Turns out, it seems she never really cared much for me at all. At least, not in a sincere way, since I would never have talked poorly of her the way she had of me.

I spent today crying at random intervals. I kept thinking about how I always initiate spending time with other people, how I always initiate our texts and barely even know how to text at all, how I seem to always be the one loving so, so hard. And still, I don't feel close to anyone outside of me. I'm so afraid for when the time my mother passes away will come. She is my only anchor in this world, she is the only person I can run to and trust I can fall back into her arms without falling flat on my back.

I feel as though I am constantly misinterpreting people. I am seeing love where I should be seeing that I am disliked.

I constantly become the subject of gossip among friends. I am always the one people discuss and criticize. Even when I am the one who has been wronged in a situation, no one ever seems to come to my defense.

I wonder if I am even remotely capable of being loved. I wonder if I will ever find true friendship. If I will ever be the favorite, closest friend. Or I wonder if I will continue to live a shell of a life, filled with nothing but endless scrolling and internal dialogues between myself and people I love who do not love me.

I just don't know how to read who loves me. I don't know how to read who is and isn't my friend, even with other autistic people. I feel so alone. I don't know how to connect. I'm afraid I never will connect to anyone else.

I think that the fact I am autistic is beautiful. It makes me think and act in ways that I am proud of. I remember when I read an essay by Simone Weil on solitude, I immediately recognized that she was autistic, and also was stricken with heartbreak when I realized that her philosophies on friendship and the ability to connect were indefinitely influenced by that. Seeing myself in Simone Weil via reading descriptions of her as being stubborn, outspoken, and so authentic that she eventually earned people around her's respect was something beautiful to me. It made me feel understood. But it's also another kind of pain to see someone you admired and relate to struggle with the same things you do.

I don't know how to end this. I just wanted to express this feeling somewhere.