Excerpt from a story I am working on...
Words meant a great deal to her. She put much thought into the words she chose to use, because it had to be the right word, for the right situation. Like soulmates.
Polly had been pondering a certain word for several days now, for the current predicament she found herself in. It was this morning, on her way into the office, that the word finally occurred to her. When she had put the car into park, and stared out at the very outdated brick and mortar office building, a sensation washed over her entire being.
She felt a sense of dread.
Her world had become very, lonely.
Not in a romantic sense, she had determined early on.
Polly craved friendship. She craved that closeness, and special bond with a group of peers. Where there were no expectations, no strings attached, and a feeling of comfortability.
From the outside looking in, Polly was convinced that friendship would be easily obtained. Through the bonds of shared interests, she had planned to be surrounded by a plethora of kindred souls.
But much like the rest of Polly’s life, the people she came to call ‘friends’ had gone off script.
Polly is Autistic. Unlike so many of her peers, she is at times, unable to pick up on even the simplest human mannerism. Especially in a social environment.
A recent example was the concept of having work friends. Polly was convinced that this would serve as a great opportunity to bond with others. Since they were basically forced to be around one another for eight hours, five days a week. Polly found it very easy to make friends with a group of gentlemen. But she had grown up, reading books and watching movies, where female friendships were spotlighted.
She had concluded that there seemed to be a pattern of sorts, when making friends with groups of women. The first phase was easy, the special interests were easy, but the next step always proved to be most difficult. Women were much different from men. There were hidden meanings within words. Which Polly struggled with that the most.
Not every, “let's get coffee together sometime,” was going to be scheduled in her Google Calendar.
She had always wished people would just say what they mean, and mean what they say.
Polly was not fond of puzzles. Especially of the people variety.
So she had bonded with several women from her new job, and shortly after had even received a nickname.
This was a very crucial piece to Polly’s equation. Even though she couldn’t figure out the origin of her new nickname, it was hers. It was a special gift. That was until last Thursday. When Polly was excluded from a meeting, because she had coughed.
You, like Polly, might be finding this a very peculiar reason to be excluded from a meeting.
Her boss, a slightly older woman, was very friendly to the group of women Polly had associated herself with. Jane had approached her desk, while the rest of her coworkers were attending the meeting in a separate room.
“I think you should leave.”
“Oh, I am not ill. I think it is a tickle in my throat from the pollen.” Polly replied with a quivering smile. She had been crying. For days now, Polly had felt her new ‘friends’ pulling away. She was never invited to lunch outings, and often felt that people were whispering about her as she walked by. So when she was excluded from a meeting, feelings of her adolescence came rushing back.
“No, hun. I think you should leave the company.”
Polly felt a wave of nausea come over her. “I’m sorry? I don’t quite understand.”
“You never do, do you Shelly?”
She had loved that nickname, but now it felt covered in something filthy. Jane took the seat across from her.
“No one likes you here, Shelly. People are talking.” She cleared her throat. “You just need to leave.” Her statement was so matter-of-fact, that on a different occasion, Polly would have been more than grateful for her directness.
“But my nickname…” She said quietly.
“Sheldon, from Big Bang Theory.” Jane replied curtly. “You know, the weird one.”
Polly felt as if she had nothing to cling to. So she did what she did best when a situation became too much to handle. She stood up, gathered her things, and walked silently out of the building.
A weekend had passed since then, and she still felt lost.
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