The Pedant’s sense of touch and taste are very sensitive. I’ve also learned that he has asthma (although I’ve never seen him have an attack) and that he used to get such bad nosebleeds that his parents took him to a doctor and they cauterized a couple of the veins way up inside. He wears earplugs to nightclubs and concerts and sometimes just while wandering around downtown because loud noises hurt his ears. He’s Aspie (or probably is), as we already know. I strongly suspect he has celiac disease.
All of which perversely turns me on.
I think it’s the juxtaposition of his delicate constitution with his physical strength and self-assured demeanour. And the fact that he can relate to some of my weird shit* better than most people because he’s in a similar boat. And the fact that his sensitivities make him vulnerable, which gives me opportunities to help and protect him and possibly endear myself to him in the process.
On a slightly different note, The Pedant has been expressing more and more bitterness about his parents lately. I guess his parents noticed his Aspie tendencies when he was younger, but didn’t connect them with an actual brain issue; they just rolled their eyes at him for being weird. And he blames his mom for his asthma; she’s always used tons of disinfectants around the house and he thinks this caused his immune system in general to be stunted (an immune system can only get strong if it has germs to practice on). He has this plan/fantasy (plantasy!) of moving out of their house in secret, piece by piece, and then just changing his cell number and last name and never speaking to them again.
On one hand, his rants about this seem like they belong on someone a lot younger than thirty-two. On the other hand, I can so relate. I have a lot of old hurt and rage re: my parents not noticing my depression, anxiety, and food sensitivities. I feel like my mom caused some of my issues. And I actually did move away at twenty-one and didn’t tell my parents where I’d gone (I wasn’t living with them at the time, and I came back into their lives after five years, but still). The only reason I don’t rant about my parents more to other people is that I feel it comes off as sort of juvenile and pathetic (shouldn’t I be over this shit by now?). When The Pedant does it, I feel uncomfortable because he’s exhibiting a trait I don’t like in myself…but I also wanna collapse in relief because he gets it. He knows what it’s like.
It’s still difficult for me to reconcile The Pedant’s hurt and vulnerability and sensitivity with the brash, kind of assholish dude I thought he was when I first met him.
I just wanna hold him and comfort him and kiss all his boo-boos better and then fuck the shit out of him.
*I, too, have keen and easily overwhelmed senses. Plus celiac disease, depression, anxiety, and food sensitivities.