Non-Verbal

Their friendship wasn't founded on many words, but a plethora of feelings. They could say so much without speaking, words didn't need to describe the emotions and experiences for either friend. It was difficult for either of them to describe what they felt anyway. The masks they wore came off, layer by layer when they were together. The TV remote would hit restart on a favorite film and neither would need to ask questions or sigh in frustration. There was a nod of acceptance and often a smile. Sometimes there didn’t even need to be a reaction, they just knew. They knew when it was a one movie, all day, sort of vibe - and went with it. Neither questioned the other, and just sat in an acceptance that the neurotypical world couldn't quite grasp.

Being autistic, they both dealt with difficult understanding the emotions that coursed through their bodies. They knew what it made them feel, a buzzing in their ears or a crawling on their skin. Food that wasn't quite right in texture felt like chewing sand, the wrong clothing felt like a small fire ablaze on their skin. The words didn't leave their mouths, but they could study one another's expressions and just know what the other was going through.

A simple swing on a swingset could feel like letting go. Letting the tense existence of an autistic life in an ableiest society float away like escaped birthday balloons could feel like the greatest joy. Flapping a hand in the window out of a window could regulate their autistic bodies while others stared in judgement. There was understanding between them, and what seemed odd and out of the ordinary for others was their every day norm. They had their routines, and knew how to wander within each other's boundaries respecitfully whilst keeping their own, even with just a look. They knew when a hug was the one thing in the world the other needed, but also when human contact would feel like an allergic reaction on the skin.

There came a time though, when distance would come between them. An entire country created a divide that could seemingly sever their connection forever. They sat together in comfort, watching a favored film on low as they painted for one another, things to help them feel connected when they weren’t close by location anymore. One painted a little bird, flying from her nest in the night. The darkness of the canvas was nearly swallowing the little bird but she soared by moonlight. The night could be scary, but it could also be cool, calm and quiet. Sometimes it seemed, little birds were on the spectrum too. The other painting was a little mouse, cosy in her little house with a cup of tea. She was comfortable and safe. Simple light white lines stood in for streaks of rain through the little painted window. The storm didn’t matter if the little mouse was safe in her mouse house, her comfort zone.

When they finally parted ways, the little mouse and bird in them knew it wasn’t the end of their friendship, but a new chapter of adventure and bravery.