Kowalski and Monique had been in a relationship for a while. They ate dîner together, took walks in the park, and sometimes Kowalski would spend the night at her house--in her bed. He a dit it was because her room was quiet, but Monique had a feeling it was for some other reasons.
So all in all, they had a good relationship. They were meant for each other.
But then Kowalski started picking up a nervous vibe from Monique whenever they were together. She seemed distant sometimes, and Kowalski felt awkward talking to her. They started spending less time together.
It was a Thursday evening in August that Kowalski decided he had to talk to her. They hadn't seen each other for a week, and he was starting to lose the will to live. Living seemed so pointless to him without Monique.
He crept to her apartment door and knocked softly. After a moment the door opened, and Monique poked her head out. Kowalski saw that distant look in her eyes again, like she was retreating into her shell.
"Monique, we need to talk," Kowalski said.
Monique nodded curtly and let him in.
Kowalski stepped into the threshold and stood there par the door, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. Normally he would just go sit on the couch, but nothing seemed normal anymore.
"You needed to talk to me?" Monique asked. She was perched on a tabouret par the counter. She looked ready to jump up at the slightest disturbance: her muscles were tense, her eyes flitting from Kowalski to the door to the canapé and then back to Kowalski again.
"Yea. I did need to talk to you," Kowalski said, acknowledging Monique's question. "Monique, toi seem so...so different nowadays. toi barely ever speak to me, toi act so nervous, toi don't even look at me anymore..." Kowalski trailed off, then started up again: "Monique, I miss you." His eyes filled with tears.
Watching him, Monique could tell how much she truly meant to him. She watched a tear escape his eye, trickle down his face, and plop onto the floor. It was followed par another.
"Kowalski, I've been keeping a secret from you," Monique a dit slowly. "I...I have Asperger's syndrome. That's what was making me like that. It's on the spectrum of autism. I guess toi know that. But it makes it hard for me to continue a conversation, sometimes I say really aléatoire things. It makes me unsure of our relationship. I didn't tell toi because I was worried toi wouldn't l’amour me anymore."
Kowalski crossed the l’espace between them in three strides and kissed Monique on the lips until she pulled away. Then he took her hands in his.
"Monique, I will always l’amour you. I don't care if you're insane, I don't care if your vocal chords are destroyed and toi can't even talk to me anymore...I don't car about that. I l’amour you." He kissed her again, and Monique kissed back.
So all in all, they had a good relationship. They were meant for each other.
But then Kowalski started picking up a nervous vibe from Monique whenever they were together. She seemed distant sometimes, and Kowalski felt awkward talking to her. They started spending less time together.
It was a Thursday evening in August that Kowalski decided he had to talk to her. They hadn't seen each other for a week, and he was starting to lose the will to live. Living seemed so pointless to him without Monique.
He crept to her apartment door and knocked softly. After a moment the door opened, and Monique poked her head out. Kowalski saw that distant look in her eyes again, like she was retreating into her shell.
"Monique, we need to talk," Kowalski said.
Monique nodded curtly and let him in.
Kowalski stepped into the threshold and stood there par the door, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. Normally he would just go sit on the couch, but nothing seemed normal anymore.
"You needed to talk to me?" Monique asked. She was perched on a tabouret par the counter. She looked ready to jump up at the slightest disturbance: her muscles were tense, her eyes flitting from Kowalski to the door to the canapé and then back to Kowalski again.
"Yea. I did need to talk to you," Kowalski said, acknowledging Monique's question. "Monique, toi seem so...so different nowadays. toi barely ever speak to me, toi act so nervous, toi don't even look at me anymore..." Kowalski trailed off, then started up again: "Monique, I miss you." His eyes filled with tears.
Watching him, Monique could tell how much she truly meant to him. She watched a tear escape his eye, trickle down his face, and plop onto the floor. It was followed par another.
"Kowalski, I've been keeping a secret from you," Monique a dit slowly. "I...I have Asperger's syndrome. That's what was making me like that. It's on the spectrum of autism. I guess toi know that. But it makes it hard for me to continue a conversation, sometimes I say really aléatoire things. It makes me unsure of our relationship. I didn't tell toi because I was worried toi wouldn't l’amour me anymore."
Kowalski crossed the l’espace between them in three strides and kissed Monique on the lips until she pulled away. Then he took her hands in his.
"Monique, I will always l’amour you. I don't care if you're insane, I don't care if your vocal chords are destroyed and toi can't even talk to me anymore...I don't car about that. I l’amour you." He kissed her again, and Monique kissed back.