Life Begins

by Jack Gunthridge

  Could I live with myself if I turned down my chances to become famous? What if that was my purpose in life? I wish my father would have told me if I had a destiny. It would make it easier to decide what I should do. I can see him with that sly smile on his face. He is enjoying my anguish over this life decision. It’s the thought process that he loves.

  I wonder if he had any regrets with the decisions he made. Would he have done it any differently if he were given the chance? Or did he get it right?

  Comedy is to me what law was to my father. Could I turn away from it and find happiness in just being a husband and father? Would that satisfy me when the world tells me that I should want more?

  And it’s not that I don’t love Christine. I am just being asked to make a decision based entirely on love. I wish I could stay in school forever.

  I don't know why we are so eager to grow up when we are young. When we get older, we will want to return to our youth. Maybe Christine and I should get married. We have never really had a childhood. Getting married would make us an official couple. We have always been taking care of each other. We might as well make it legal.

  I don't know. I just can't do this right now. I would like to keep what little I have left of my childhood until I am fully ready to become an adult.

  But with the loss of all innocence anyway, is sex really that big of a deal? It would seem small next to what all we have already gone through. It would at least be an enjoyable entry into adulthood. I don't think our previous experiences with the adult world have been pleasurable or worth repeating.

  I wonder why they call it losing your virginity. I mean, some people have it taken from them, but most people lose it by choice. And it's not like you are really losing it. You know where it is going. It's not like you are going to lose it and then find it in the lost and found box. You don't misplace it, unless you miss your mark completely.

  I would hope that I wouldn’t miss my mark. It would be easy for a man to do. In the heat of the moment and with everything being lubricated, I could see me missing my mark. I mean, I have problems hitting the toilet sometimes. And I’m not even excited.

  ~~~

  We could test your scientific theories of lost virginities. I'm not beyond appealing to your scientific reasoning. Come on, Jack. All matter has to go somewhere. It never just disappears. I mean, if I take yours and you take mine, then aren't we still left virgins? We would both be left with a virginity. It doesn't matter that it wasn't our original one. Let's see where your virginity goes. You could write a paper on this.

  ~~~

  I would rather not write a paper on the theories of lost virginities. I am kind of intrigued by her experiment, though. It would make perfect sense that if I take hers and she takes mine, then we would both still be left virgins.

  With my luck, though, my virginity would disappear in a black hole and never be seen again. I haven't quite advanced in science enough to master black holes. I just know that they are bad business in science fiction films. No good ever comes out of them.

  So I am ending my autobiography without a proper ending. I can't help it. I am only eighteen. I don't know where my life is going. Everything I have written has told a story leading up to me having sex with Christine. Since I have not done that yet, I don't have a climax for this book. Instead I have an ending that doesn't satisfy the reader or the participants.

  That's life. It doesn't always end the way that we want it to. We can't always write an ending that pleases us. Maybe some things don't end. They just keep going on.

  That’s going to be frustrating. I don’t think I can go on much longer like this. I want to have sex with her. I love her. I just can’t find a way to do what I really want to do without upsetting everything else I want to do. And I’m sure sex is good and all. I mean, a lot of people have done a lot of stuff just to have it, which is amazing considering that it doesn’t really take that long, even when the guy is exceptional at it. It just seems like a lot of trouble could come from a few moments of extreme pleasure.

  With everything that has happened between me and Jack, he has agreed to let me have the final say with an addition to this last chapter that was filled so full of hope all those great many years ago. He figures I know him better anybody else, even himself.

  The only problem is what do you say about a man that is full of contradictions while always being true to himself. He is a very private person, and yet he has chosen a profession in which he puts himself out there for all of the world to consume. He is one of the most caring and compassionate people you will ever meet, and yet he has a condition that causes him to get lost in thought and not think about others until I give him a little social reminder of what is the polite thing to do.

  As much as I love him and know all of his little quirks, I will never fully understand what he goes through. I know in the chapter where he talks about being torn between being human and trying to be more than that, he was trying to express something in high school that was inside of him that is related to his autism even before he was diagnosed with it.

  I can tell you his favorite Disney movie is Pinocchio because he is always trying to become a real boy. He somehow feels unhuman like something is missing. He likes The Wizard of Oz because he relates to the Tin Man. The man has never forgotten my birthday or an anniversary. He will buy me flowers because he was walking down the street and saw my favorite kind. He will randomly tell me I’m beautiful or call me for no other reason than to tell me he loves me. He notices whenever I do anything different with hair or wear a new outfit. He often puts the needs of others ahead of himself, but will always think there is something wrong with him and that he is somehow missing a heart or that element of being human that really makes us human.

  I don’t know if it has something to do with some of the other things he likes and what he feels is inside of him. He very seldom loses his temper, but he has always been afraid of losing it. When he does get angry, he usually blows up like a volcano. Everything that has been pent up for who knows how long makes its way out. He calls this releasing the Hulk. At these times, it is best to just leave him alone and to let him burn off his anger.

  I hate to see him this way. During these times, he doesn’t feel pain. It’s a lot like the fight that took place between him and one of my ex-boyfriends. He could physically injure himself, and he wouldn’t feel it. I know when he was a child he used to get spanked. His mother gave up. He didn’t seem to feel it, and she was starting to get to a point where she felt it was too hard for a punishment.

  I haven’t seen him do it in a long time, but he used to get so angry that he would end up hitting himself in the head or banging his head up against a hard object. I’ve asked him about it before. He doesn’t know why. He just feels the desire to do it.

  I would guess it has something to do with what he feels is a disconnect between his head and his heart. He has emotions he can’t express. His head tries to rationalize everything and make sense of the world, but he doesn’t know what to do with feelings, especially since he somehow feels they are somehow inferior to knowledge and logic. Emotions can’t solve problems.

  I think this is where he has the moral dilemma between wanting to be human and something better. I know he relates to Anakin Skywalker. He knows the strength that his anger gives him and all of the potential that is inside of him. When he was a teenager, he was trying to find the balancing act between achieving greatness without becoming more machine than man. He feared what he saw inside of himself.

  Looking back at our high school years, I can’t blame him for writing the Declaration of Independence. I think he was afraid of his feelings for me and our constant flirting without an actual relationship. His heart was starting to feel more than his head could process. For him, it was better to end the relationship and to live without me than to continue to have me in his life.

  I’ve never been afraid of Jack’s anger. It is always directed at himself or at inanimate objects. He will usually hit his
head, which is his central computer, or he will use his brute force to show he is superior to a piece of equipment. In his anger, I have always felt he wants to feel human or to show an electronic device that he is capable of doing things it can’t.

  Jack and I discussed whether we should put this kind of behavior in this book. I can tell you it was left out of the original version in high school because it was something all of his friends knew about, but didn’t publicly acknowledge. Now that he is a celebrity, he wanted other autistics and their families to know that this kind of behavior shouldn’t be acceptable, but that it was common for autistics.

  There has been some concern about his career and coming out as autistic. I told him he didn’t have to disclose it if he didn’t want to. He responded, “As an artist, I have never shied away from any thoughts or feelings I have had. If I have thought it or felt it, then somebody else has, too. My problem has always been expressing things that society would like to act like don’t exist. I am autistic. What kind of artist would I be if I stopped getting into trouble now because the world rather define me as being disabled and somehow irrelevant?”

  Jack has always said I make him human. He has always been human. I just make him a little bit more socially acceptable.

  If you want to understand our relationship, we are exact opposites. I’m the popular girl. He’s the anti-social guy who sees society for what it really is. He has a habit of being polite and following the rules. There are elements of a southern gentleman to him. And then there is a part of him that is a pure hell raiser that delights in making fun of societal norms in such a way that you can never be sure if he is mocking you or trying to be polite in a situation he considers absurd.

  I have dated bad boys before, but Jack has the unique ability to be both socially acceptable and a rebel. He doesn’t disdain for society and its rules. He hates stupidity and is true to himself and his principles. He will follow the heart of the rule, even if he has to break the actual letter of it. He’s the type of guy that you can bring home to mom and dad, and the guy who can embarrass the hell out you.

  As much as he has embarrassed me over the years, he is also the only guy who loves me for who I am and not for the way I look. Even if I wanted to have sex with him in high school, I liked how he restrained himself. I could flirt with him and have him not be putty in my hands. He presented a challenge to me whereas most guys would bow down to me.

  Looking back at our teen years, I see now how many of our problems were related to his autism and to me being normal. I didn’t understand why he was the way he was and why he did the things he did. And he didn’t know either. If I asked him to change, he seemed to resent it as if I was asking him to change something fundamental about himself. And maybe I was.

  I don’t know the extent to which he suffers from sensory issues. I know he doesn’t like going to clubs or some of the wilder parties that I would go to in high school. After his diagnosis, he tried telling me what it was like for him at these things. He says it is like being able to see and hear everything that is going all at the same time. There is so much going on he can’t focus on one thing and enjoy himself.

  Shortly after we started dating, we went to a party at one of the more popular kids in school’s house. I knew Jack didn’t want to go, but he went because of our Constitution and the compromise we had made of trying to do things the other person wanted as part of this new relationship. Jack was awkward. He didn’t dance. He clung to me. He didn’t drink any alcohol. And he didn’t socialize with anybody. He would talk to the people who would come up to him, but he didn’t take the initiative to start any conversations.

  I tried to be understanding, but I was also slightly aggravated at him. I know he is able to be witty, funny, and the life of the party. I just didn’t understand he can only be these things when he is comfortable with the group he is around. Out of my frustration, I drank a little bit more than I should have and got a little bit out of control.

  One of my ex-boyfriends thought it would be a good idea to roofie my drink. He had planned on taking advantage of me while another girl tried to seduce Jack.

  You can say what you want about autistics and their lack of social skills, but Jack’s skills came in handy that night. His ability to hear everything going on allowed him to hear what was planned. His protective and clingy nature made him not take his eyes off of me.

  As I was led back to one of the bedrooms, Jack politely excused himself from the woman that was all over him. The story is that he said, “Pardon me, but I wouldn’t tap that if it were a keg. Good evening”, and then bowed in all sincerity to the girl before making his way back to the bedroom to where I was.

  There is a lot I don’t remember about that night. Jack doesn’t discuss it, and he left it out of the original version of this book on purpose. The story I heard from people at the party was that Jack came into the room full of jocks and some of the bitches that hated me who were going to watch as the rape was about to take place.

  As the guy started to pull down my pants and undo his pants, Jack comes up from behind the guy, leans in and whispers in his ear, “If you rape her, I’m going to rape you all the harder. The talk of the school Monday won’t be that you scored with Christine, but that I fucked you so hard your ass still hasn’t stopped bleeding.” The onlookers started laughing and the soon to be rapist zipped up his pants and left with everybody laughing at him.

  Jack ignored the laughter, made me decent again, and carried me out to his car. Rumor has it that he persuaded everybody in the room to hand over any photos or videos of the incident to him. I don’t know how much he paid them, but I know Jack will spend whatever he has to to get what he wants.

  I’ve asked him about this. He says he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Knowing Jack and his anger, I’m guessing the Hulk was released once I was safely back home in my own bed. Any cameras, camcorders, or memory cards with evidence of the events were destroyed beyond repair. He denies this, which means there is probably some truth to it. I know he didn’t put them in his box of memories. He didn’t want to remember this, so he made it like it never happened.

  I woke up the next morning and saw Jack watching me like an overprotective parent. He took care of me that entire morning and made sure I was okay. He didn’t sleep until the next night when he was sure I was okay.

  And that’s Jack. He stands up for things and people he believes in. It was common for people at the parties to use some of the drunk girls for sex with people looking on like it was a spectator sport. I knew it was going on, even if I didn’t watch. Nobody said anything because nobody wanted to be that one person who spoke up and lost their chance at popularity and being accepted by everybody it was best to be accepted by. I could have stopped it, but I was never like Jack.

  Jack doesn’t care about being popular. He used to say he never cared what a bunch of people he didn’t hold in high regard thought of him. At the end of the day, he has to go home and live with himself. It’s much easier to do when you are always true to yourself.

  I had fought for so long to have Jack accepted by the popular kids. After I started dating him, I spent more time seeing how the popular kids weren’t worth being accepted by. The amount of wild parties and what used to happen at them also started to slow down.

  I’ve asked Jack if it ever bothers him to be different and to spend life following the beat of a different drum. He would only say, “The problem with majorities is that they are made up of large groups of minorities who are afraid to speak up for being different. It only takes one brave enough to say something isn’t right for a minority to become the new majority.” He then winked at me and pretended to be an injured American Revolutionary soldier beating a drum and then playing Yankee Doodle Dandy on a pretend flute.

  I have never understood how Jack responds to situations. If his own life is threatened or he is being bullied, he doesn’t seem to be able to stand up for himself. But if somebody or some cause he cares about it is the victim
, he will stop at nothing to defend it.

  I have also never understood his thinking when it comes to responding to the threat. Most people would have attacked my ex-boyfriend before he tried to rape me. Instead, Jack threatened to rape him. I have asked Jack about it before, but he would only say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He seemed completely ignorant of the event, before he smiled and said, “But it does sound like something I would do in that situation. Some people believe in brute force. I believe in outsmarting your enemies and having them think you are so crazy you will actually follow through on any threat. And never underestimate a straight man’s fear of homosexuality.”

  I think he has sometimes gotten into trouble for not following the gender norms of our society. In eleventh grade some guys made fun of him when he admitted that he knew how to sew when we had projects due that required sewing. He sees it as a skill and not as women’s work. He learned how to do it from his grandmother. He used to make sock puppets.

  He knows how to cook and isn’t ashamed to admit it. While he doesn’t feel like there is anything wrong with a man doing this, he has an insult ready if any woman should seem surprised by it. “It’s not that hard. Women have been doing it for centuries.” That was his response to me when I found out he had made a cake entirely from scratch.

  He knows how to clean and decorate a house. He knows women’s clothing and will tell me not to buy certain outfits because they don’t look good on my body type.

  The man is known as much for his romance books and films as he is for his comedies. I’ve gotten two responses for this. “Even Master Splinter had his love of his soaps. A civilized man recognizes and appreciates the qualities of a good romance or drama in his society.”

  He has also said, “My dear child, don’t you know I’m becoming the master of a genre that is dominated by women? Whereas women present what they think they want, I am giving them something I have heard they don’t want. But with women being illogical creatures, they actually prefer the very thing they say they don’t want. It has always been the cornerstone of any relationship between a man and a woman. Plus, if you notice, I objectify myself. It is the most brilliant way I know of to get myself voted People’s Sexiest Man Alive.”