autotelic, autistic, assonance-hole©.


When you were small, we used to play a game called “I love you more than…” – the rules were simple – you had to state a love larger than something the others involved KNOW you love dearly. The ‘one up’ game was both to make expression easier and to have a chance to demonstrate exponential love to you.

Your top was ‘SpaghettiOs’. At the time, nothing was more beloved, except perhaps dear, dirty, dinged up Patch. And mine was “gaming’.

I have so many happy memories with you. I guess it never occurred to me that your experience could possibly be different. You were there. You were smiling and laughing, too. At the time, I don’t think I understood that others often do not express their inner thoughts.

Something I only really grasped lately and to be utterly candid, I still tend toward disbelief… why would anyone NOT say what they think and feel and believe and mean?

I suppose that’s why I’m here and they are there.

But I still love you more than gaming. Even if it turns out you do not see it, do not believe it.


love you more than me | this is and will ever be | my spaghettio