The River and Me

The river became me. Doesn’t everyone feel the river like a pure cold balm?

Perfect in essence.

Sure in flow.

I am I.

But I know the river deeper because…

I am Autistic.

I am different in the way I know, feel and see.

The assessment was an odd sort of ceremony. No warmth to its approach, just a kind face smiling at my oddities, unsure whether to mumble the words ‘on the spectrum’ to me. Unsure whether that might make me feel like I was ‘broken’.

I am not broken.

I feel the river.

I know its life.

Thank goodness I am Autistic.

I couldn’t stand knowing the river in any other way.