An Aspergians Thoughts On A Pageant And Old Memories

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Biggest attraction of pageants?

Not trophies.

Or banners.

Or crowns.

It’s the girls. I mean, obviously, but I enjoy watching the pageant (despite my hatred of crowds and public places) becaus I get to see how personable people communicate and imteract with others. I don’t have to ask any questions. I can just sit back and take mental notes. I have the benefit of my sister competing so I don’t look like a stalker (not that I’ve ever cared), and I get tips from her as well.

However, I’m not writing to or for pageant girls. I’m written my because they reminded me of a friend I had. It’s sobering, thinking how far I’ve come since then. No, we didn’t work, and I think about what went wrong and what might’ve been. I’m always thinking about those bad memories. Those memories where it happens, I forget, something triggers it and then I can’t forget.

I would’ve used her name, but it makes me feel bad. Like I failed a human being. Anyway, to the poem…

She’s cute
Like
Real. Cute.
She’s got perfect teeth
and that killer smile
She’s got thick, curly blonde hair
for a California mile
Back to the smile
It’s the sweetest I’ve ever seen
When she throws in a wink
it’s an ethereal dream
It shines
for eternity
Brighter than any star
in all its glory
I won’t even get started
on her curves
not because
I’m not a perv
but because she’s
so perfect
that she demands utter respect
She’s worth it
How about
her hips
with every step
they curve and dip
in that black mini dress
so well
and as she leans over
my eyes swell
Her legs
just go and go and go
and as I’m thinking
I really want to know
What her name is
and why she’s here
but where others are emboldened
I’m full of fear
One day
I’ll go
take her hand
and say “I know”
Long story short
I let a lot of girls go
because despite my longing
I just let them go
I got Aspergers man
I’m too shy to ask
despite my gut

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