I've seen the same thing happen so many times. When I was homeless that first time, the person running the shelter told me how she had a brother who was a mathematician. You called me autistic. Why do you think that happens to someone. Why do you think they're inclined to live in their own little world from the earliest age. When my parents, specifically my stepfather, would take me to doctors, they were always spiteful towards me. Not loving, not how a therapist should behave. Because he picked them Taylor. And they told him what they wanted to hear. That my great misfortune was genetic and not because of the way I was treated. Let me show you how this affects people. Even more than people. So today I was with someone else attending to some animals. Pumpkin. Now the animals that were happy and treated well gravitated toward the nicer person than me. But she didn't know how to treat the animal that was breathing erratically in its cage. Not eating. Because she didn't recognize the helplessness in its eyes. And so when it looked at me and how I was behaving it trusted me. It should have trusted her instead of me. She could provide for it better. The point was that we don't get to choose what love feels like. What feels familiar. And so, when you barked at me something like "Do you notice a pattern!?", the pattern is this: I was looking for the love I lost when I was child.