Life as an autistic woman was exhausting. Every task felt as though it drained your life. Work, socialising, shopping, getting up in the morning… it all felt like too much sometimes. But you had to do it.

Romance as an autistic woman was the most exhausting thing though.

Some men just romanticised you, as their manic pixie dream girl. With your rambling, strange interests and ‘quirks’. And so you became the girl they just wanted to show off. Others babied you, it felt belittling even if that wasn’t their intentions. Assumed you being autistic was code for stupid.

Romance and love had been one of your special interests, you craved it. Nothing ment more to you than the idea of someone loving you. Even if you’d never truly experienced it.

You had met a man named Simon Riley. Simon was a butcher, working in a small shop in the town centre. He was also damaged, but somehow that made you two Perfect.

He was diagnosed with cptsd after the years of physical and mental abuse he witnessed and was subjected to from his father. Simon wasn’t used to receiving affection and so when he did he couldn’t let it go. He needed the reassurance that they’d wouldn’t ever him— which you too needed.

Simon was attractive, tall and muscular yet he didn’t seem to know it. He wasn’t the type to take his insecurities out on you, but it was clear he didn’t think himself attractive.