Review of the ACX meetup in Berkeley

The irony was that the worst couples walked in lockstep like soldiers

Last night I went to an ACX meetup. It was a space where the awkward could finally feel at home and not be judged. They were explicitly invited. There were fairy lights. It was cozy. This was just the gift wrapping. Over the course of the night stilted speech melted like warm butter on toast. The air was thick with sweat from skin unaccustomed to the outdoors. It was fine. Nobody seemed to care. Every introduction was like meeting an old friend. This shouldn’t have happened. Most of the people I met were new. I met a tall awkward guy early on. By the end, he was on a couch in deep conversation with two other guys. Before long, there was no ice to break. Friendships formed here.

The guy running the event married a little over a year ago. I met his lovely wife early on. She was glowing. She stood graciously with a warm confidence radiating outward. It was the kind of poise you could only get by never reading a single book on poise.

I talked to her. She started awkwardly, but quickly found her footing. She talked about her husband. Though he’s a rationalist, she didn’t describe his love as rational. In his job, he’d talk to his clients through their problems. Often, these were romantic issues. These discussions didn’t weigh on him. After those client meetings, she said he would throw his arms around her in gratitude.

Her parents divorced, but she made it. She broke the cycle. She found harmony. I was reminded of my own struggles. I realized just how many choices I made on principle, and how wrong that was, and how brittle it made me.

Her husband was around, but I don’t recall ever seeing them next to each other. Their closeness defied distance. I quickly remembered my ex who was 2 hours away. We had a child together. Tears welled up under my eyes. I excused myself.

I saw another couple there. It was awful. They were fashionable, but it was the high fructose corn syrup kind of love. It was Fruit Loops and Apple Jacks. I saw a famous couple. They were a pair—technically speaking.

The irony of all this was that the worst couples walked in lockstep like soldiers. They marched. Their eyes were restless. They looked good and smelled sweet. And they were looking for something, somewhere, and hoping to find it at this meeting. It was not their crowd, and both couples quickly left.

I almost broke down. In hindsight, I talked to much. I don’t know if I left the best impression. It was a lot to take in. The balance was delicate, and while most were finding their footing, I felt I walked too heavy. My feet fell too hard against the pavement.

The event made me realize how broken I was, the importance of my own family, how important my ex still was to me despite all the reasons that should stand between us, and how much I gave up by living according to the sharp edges of a cold rationality. The best part of being around the rationalists was the warm and buttery irony.