Jerry Newport - Mozart and the Whale: An Aspergers Love Story

T he journey youre about to embark on over the next few hundred pages is, at its heart, a story of love. Our odyssey, like that taken by many others, follows a circuitous route made all the more difficult because we both have Aspergers syndrome. Where normal-brained lovers might encounter speed bumps, we got mired in deep ditches. When others with a different neurological wiring might glimpse a few storm clouds on the horizon, we saw nothing but darkness. The littlest things tore us apart.

This is the story about what happens when two people with Aspergers fall in love. We had to find our own way. We had no road maps to follow and precious few guidebooks to instruct us on what to do once we arrived. Time and time again, we stumbled and fell, then picked ourselves up, convincing ourselves that wed learned our lesson and wouldnt make the same mistake twice. And then, just when we thought wed gotten it right, we fell again and again. Love, we quickly learned, wasnt for the weak of heart.

But the funny thing was, neither one of us would trade away any of the heartache and headaches we experienced along the way. Why? Because the journey we endured not only taught us precious mysteries about one another, it gave us priceless insight into ourselvesfar better than any therapist or counselor ever could. We both learned that just because our heads werent naturally wired for love, it didnt mean our hearts werent. And it certainly didnt mean we couldnt learn to love. Our tumultuous journey taught us that the first step toward attracting a loving partner is simply to find a way to love yourself. Exactly how you do that is up to you, but one things for certain: if you cant love yourself, how can you expect anyone else to?

Our story is hardly unique. There are plenty of children, teens, and adults out there who feel as hopelessly different and unlovable as we did, who have resigned themselves to believing that theyre doomed to live out life without ever feeling like a single person can accept them for who they really are. Our one hope is that people with Aspergersalong with their parents, friends, and caregiverswill recognize the difficulties that come with relationships so they can troubleshoot them rather than walk away from them in defeat. Because people with Aspergers can have great relationships. We can experience love in magical ways that our normal-brained brothers and sisters can never know or understand. Love can lift you higher than you ever thought possible and connect you to the world in a way you can never know until youve experienced it.

Once you taste it, youll never settle for anything less.

VENICE BEACH, CALIFORNIA
MARCH 1999

T he sleeping pills should have kicked in hours ago. I swallowed somewhere close to sixty of them, praying theyd take me away from everything my life had become. Id thought it all out, all the details. In the event my body wasnt discovered for several days, Id written a little note, poured out a couple of pounds worth of seed for my birds, then pulled the curtain closed around my bed, and curled up with Mrs. Willy, my giant stuffed whale. On the other side of the curtain, out by the sliding glass door caked with dirt that rumbled from the Sunday afternoon traffic, my birds sat quietly, staring out into the smog.

I had a hunch they knew.

It hadnt been a good day. In fact, as someone who had endured a lifetime of bad days, the past two years were a new, dismal low. Just when it looked like life was on the verge of being worth living, everything slipped away and turned to shit. Mary was gone and she wasnt coming back. Her birthday was yesterday. I shut my eyes and waited for something to happen. All I knew is that I didnt want to spend the rest of my life alone. Not quite sure why it was taking so long. Certainly seemed like that many pills would do the trick. For an instant, I started to obsess about the number sixty, mulling over what an interesting number it is and how I never imagined Id die because of it. Sixty is the product of 2 times 2 times 3 times 5. Sixty is the number of degrees of arc covered by the side of a hexagon inscribed inside a circle. Each side equals the radius, and the hexagon is made of six equilateral triangles linked together. Fold them all outside and you get six more, forming a total of twelve, which makes a Star of David with one equilateral triangle for each tribe of Israel. After a few moments, however, I realized I wasnt in the mood to do any calculations or even to think about numbers. The room began to grow quiet, the traffic a bit fainter. I wondered if I was slipping away.

Lying there, I tried not to remember. A lot of good that was doing. It took me my entire life to find Mary, and now shed gone away. After only five years of marriage, we crashed and burned. She moved back to Tucson and Im stuck here. A couple of months ago, it looked like maybe wed get back together, but it didnt last. Dont know why I let myself get my hopes up like that. It just wasnt meant to be. At least not now. But once upon a time it certainly was.

I still remember that Halloween party Id organized, the one where I first met Mary Meinel. The year was 1993, which happens to be the sum of the squares of 43 and 12. When you add those two numbers up, you get 55, which is the year Mary was born1955. The day we met was the 289th day of the year, a perfect square of 17. The number 17 is also unique because its a prime number and you can inscribe a seventeen-sided figure inside a circle, which is rare.

Id spent weeks trying to construct a whale costume out of garbage bags and paper. The results were laughably pathetic. Strips of newspaper and bits of chicken wire dangled from its side. It resembled a carcass. I ended up dragging it around the party behind me like a deflated blimp. But my costume also reminded me of how magical AGUA was. Because as ridiculous as my costume looked, everybody complimented me on it. They seemed to understand what I was trying to create, and they were proud of me for even attempting such a feat. This kind of unconditional supportwhether one succeeded or notturned out to be one of my favorite parts of AGUA.

I got my first glimpse of Mary as I stood in a hallway, waiting to use the bathroom. My bladder felt on the verge of exploding. Mary opened the restroom door, walked out, and the first thing that hit me was her lavender lace dress. Months before, shed taken a disposable razor to her head and shaved off her hair. Of course, I didnt know that at the time because shed pulled this crazy-looking Mozart wig down over her scalp. A cluster of powder white locks dangled and danced around her shoulders. Mary had disappeared into the living room by the time I finally ventured out of the bathroom. She was chatting with some other members of my group. I watched her for a little while, amazed at how she lit up the room. Id never seen anything like it. When I finally summoned up enough courage to introduce myself, the first words out of my mouth were: When were you born?