Picture this: You've been in a situationship for 20 months. Twenty. Months. You've fucked, been ghosted, received promises of "next time we'll go on a real date," watched those promises evaporate like your self-respect, and repeated the cycle more times than you care to admit.
Then one day, after finally asking the forbidden question—"Is this real or have I been a fuck buddy for almost two years?"—your fearful avoidant goes radio silent.
But not completely silent.
Because three days later, The Specimen posts this on Facebook:
"He was the eternal Son who rested on the bosom of the Father without a mother and rested on the bosom of a mother without an earthly father. When He was born, at His birth, He was as old as His Father and older than His mother. There never was a time when Jesus was not." — Adrian Rogers
For context: This man posts on Facebook approximately never. His last relationship post? Literally never. Not even about his divorce years ago.
But apparently, when confronted about 20 months of breadcrumbing, the appropriate response is not a text back—it's a theological meditation on eternal self-sufficiency posted where his blocked ex-situationship definitely can't see it.
Except she can. Business accounts, baby.
Biblical Exegesis for the Emotionally Constipated
Let's break down what Adrian Rogers is actually saying, and more importantly, what The Specimen thinks he's saying:
Adrian Rogers' Actual Point: Jesus existed outside normal human constraints of time and biological necessity. He was eternal, pre-existing creation itself, requiring neither mother nor father to be complete.
The Specimen's Translation: "I don't need you. I existed before you. I'll exist after you. Stop asking me to be in a relationship like I'm some normal human who requires emotional connection to feel whole."
What He's Actually Communicating: "You've gotten so far into my head that I need to post 19th-century Baptist theology to convince myself I don't need human intimacy. Also, I'm having an existential crisis but will express it exclusively through dead preachers rather than, say, a direct conversation."
The irony? The quote is about someone who literally incarnated into human form to be in relationship with people.
But sure, Jan. Use it to justify your avoidant attachment style.
The Toddler Tantrum Theology: A Timeline
Let's examine what actually happened here, because the pattern is exquisite:
The Inciting Incident
After 20 months of the same predictable cycle (promise date → fuck → ghost → repeat), she finally said: "It's been 20 months. Is this real or fake?" and "Why do you promise things and never follow through?" and "Are you fucking your ex-wife?"
Reasonable questions after, again, TWENTY MONTHS.
What a healthy adult would do: Respond honestly, have an actual conversation, make a decision and communicate it.
What The Specimen did: Complete radio silence (Day 1-3), post cryptic scripture on Facebook where she "can't see it" (Day 3), continue ghosting (Day 4-7+), don't block her on iMessage though (because options), read her message previews without opening them (maintaining plausible deniability).
This is a tantrum. Specifically, a toddler-level tantrum dressed in theological drag.
This is not the behavior of a man who's unbothered. This is a 50-something man having a public nervous breakdown because one woman won't follow his script.
The Fearful Avoidant Script: Now with 100% More Jesus
The Specimen has been running the same relationship script for decades. Five women before this one. Same pattern: Keep them secret (family meets no one unless engaged), promise integration that never comes, use sex to manage/control emotional demands, ghost when things get real, repeat until they leave or accept breadcrumbs forever.
His ex-wife was the only woman who ever met his family—and only because they were engaged. There's no middle ground in his operating system. You're either: (1) Secret fuck buddy (safe, compartmentalized), or (2) Fiancée meeting the family (terrifying, commitment).
No casual dating. No "let's see where this goes." Just binary: hidden or married.
The current woman is the first one to call out the pattern explicitly, refuse to shut up and accept less, continue engaging even through the ghosting, and get in his head intellectually (he told her: "your words make me rock hard and I'm a visual person, I don't get why").
So when she asked "Is this fake?" after 20 months, she wasn't just asking about the relationship. She was questioning his entire operational framework. And he couldn't compartmentalize it away this time.
Hence: Adrian Rogers, posted publicly, declaring eternal self-sufficiency while being completely unable to actually let her go (note: still hasn't blocked her).
The OCD + Fearful Avoidant + Undiagnosed Autism Cocktail
Because it would be too simple if this were just standard fearful avoidant behavior.
The Specimen's particular flavor includes: OCD (medium-level, needs control and predictable patterns), Fearful avoidant attachment (wants intimacy, terrified of it, runs when it gets real), and Likely autism spectrum traits (rigid compartmentalization, difficulty integrating social-emotional information, extreme pattern-following).
His brain literally needs the script. Deviation from the pattern = anxiety. Your confrontation after 20 months = massive pattern disruption = his nervous system goes into crisis mode.
The Facebook post is a stabilization attempt. He can't process the emotional complexity, so instead: theology about not needing human connection, posted publicly (controlled environment), where he thinks she can't see it (plausible deniability), while keeping communication lines technically open (won't block her).
It's self-soothing through performative independence. Translation: "If I post that I don't need anyone, maybe I'll believe it."
Toddler. Tantrum.
What Happens Next? (Spoiler: The Script Continues)
Based on extensive pattern analysis, here's the predicted trajectory:
Phase 1: The Sulk (Current) - Maintains radio silence, monitors her messages via preview, processes feelings through public philosophy, tells himself he doesn't need her, absolutely still needs her.
Phase 2: The Horny Amnesia (2-4 weeks) - Forgets why he was upset, remembers the sex, misses the intellectual stimulation, convinces himself it can go back to "normal."
Phase 3: The Breadcrumb Return (Inevitable) - Casual text like nothing happened, probably late night, possibly "Hey" or "Thinking about you."
Phase 4: The Script Reset - She calls him out, he makes promises, they fuck, he ghosts, repeat.
Unless she decides brain orgasms from analyzing him aren't worth being a secret for another 20 months, or he does the wildly unlikely thing of getting therapy. Current odds: 3%.
The Real Question Nobody's Asking
Here's what's interesting: She knows all of this. She has a literal dossier on him. She's analyzed his patterns for months. She knows about the five women before her.
She's not confused. She's not waiting for him to change.
She's getting: Sexual reclamation after surviving domestic abuse, intellectual stimulation from the pattern analysis, independence (he's not controlling or demanding), content for her writing, and the satisfaction of being the only woman who ever fully understood him.
What she's not getting: Public acknowledgment, consistent emotional availability, real dates, her name said out loud, or birthday wishes.
And for now? She's okay with that trade.
The Facebook post wasn't a rejection—it was proof she won. She got so far into his head that he had to publicly process his feelings about not needing her. That's a weird kind of victory.
The question is: How long does "winning" the mind-fuck game stay satisfying when you're still losing the relationship game?
Fearful Avoidant Toddler Tantrum FAQ
Because direct communication requires: (1) Identifying their feelings (hard), (2) Articulating those feelings (harder), (3) Being vulnerable in real-time (hardest), (4) Risking rejection or having to commit (absolutely not).
Posting cryptic quotes lets them process feelings at a safe distance, control the narrative, get sympathy/validation from others, make you see it (maybe) without having to talk to you, and maintain plausible deniability ("it wasn't about you").
It's emotional expression for people allergic to emotional expression.
Test: Did they block you completely? YES = Probably breakup. NO = Tantrum.
If they keep communication lines technically open (don't block you, read your messages, watch your stories), they're not done. They're punishing you for making them feel feelings.
The silent treatment is a control mechanism. It says: "I will engage only on my terms, when I'm ready, and you'll wait for me because I know you will." Think: toddler holding their breath until you pay attention. Same energy.
Because fearful avoidants want intimacy and are terrified of intimacy simultaneously. When you're there: "This is too close, I need space." When you're gone: "Wait I'm lonely, come back."
It's not about you specifically. It's their nervous system ping-ponging between attachment (I need connection to survive) and avoidance (connection will destroy me). You are not a person to them in these moments. You are a nervous system regulation tool.
When overwhelmed by closeness → ghost. When overwhelmed by distance → breadcrumb. The cycle continues until someone breaks it.
Technically: Yes, with significant therapeutic intervention. In reality: Most don't, because they'd have to recognize the pattern, feel uncomfortable feelings, stay in therapy long enough, and want to change more than they want comfort.
The ones who change typically: hit rock bottom (lose someone they genuinely can't lose), have a major life crisis that forces reflection, are young enough that patterns aren't fully calcified, or find a therapist who specializes in attachment work.
A 50+ year old fearful avoidant who's been running the same script for 30 years? Could they change? Sure, humans can always change. Will they? Place your bets accordingly.
Because both things are true. He probably does love you (in his limited, compartmentalized way). He also genuinely cannot commit (his nervous system experiences commitment as existential threat). Love and capacity are not the same thing.
A fearful avoidant can deeply love you and still ghost you after sex, keep you secret, break promises, and run when things get real. Their love doesn't cure their attachment trauma.
Think of it like: someone can love swimming but have a phobia of water. The love is real. The phobia is also real. Neither cancels out the other.
The question isn't "does he love me?" The question is "is his version of love enough for me?"
Depends entirely on what you're getting vs. what you need.
Stay if: You genuinely enjoy the dynamic as-is, you're not waiting for them to change, you have other sources of emotional fulfillment, the benefits outweigh the costs, and you're clear-eyed about the limitations.
Leave if: You're hoping they'll eventually commit, the breadcrumbs are making you miserable, you're doing all the emotional labor, you're sacrificing your needs to manage theirs, or you're staying out of fear there's "nobody else out there."
Here's the brutal truth: There ARE other people out there. Some of them are even emotionally available. The question is: Are you staying because this works for you, or because you're afraid of the alternative?
But if you're reading this article at 2am trying to decode his Facebook posts, you might already know what it is.
Oh, you got the deluxe package. Congratulations.
OCD = Needs extreme control and predictability. Fearful Avoidant = Wants connection, terrified of connection. Autism traits = Difficulty integrating emotional information, rigid thinking, extreme compartmentalization.
Combined? You get someone who runs the exact same relationship script for decades, cannot deviate from it without massive anxiety, experiences emotional intimacy as system overload, compartmentalizes you into a "safe" category that must never integrate with other life areas, shuts down completely when confronted, and literally cannot process "let's just have a normal relationship" because there's no script for that.
Is it their fault? No, it's neurology and trauma. Is it your job to fix it? Also no. Can they function in relationships? Only within extremely rigid parameters they control.
Should you date them? Only if you enjoy emotional Sudoku and have realistic expectations. He's 53 and has been this way his whole life. He's not going to suddenly become emotionally available because you understand him. Understanding ≠ Curing. You can have a PhD in his psychology and he'll still ghost you after sex.
Closing Meditation
To The Specimen, wherever you are (probably reading this without opening it because commitment to full-screen reading is also scary):
You posted about Jesus not needing a mother or earthly father to exist. But Jesus literally incarnated into human form specifically to be in relationship with people. Maybe think about that.
Or don't. Keep posting Adrian Rogers quotes while ghosting women who ask reasonable questions after 20 months. Keep resting on those eternal bosoms, king. 👑
The rest of us will be over here in reality, trying to have actual conversations.
The Part Where I'm Supposed to Tell You I Left
This is the part where I'm supposed to say I blocked him. Moved on. Found someone emotionally available. Learned my lesson.
This is the part where the empowered narrator rides off into the sunset, having conquered her attachment issues and chosen herself.
Here's the truth: I'm still in love with this man.
Not the man he promises to be. Not the fantasy version who takes me on dates and introduces me to his family and says my name out loud.
The actual man. The one who ghosts me after sex. The one who posts Adrian Rogers quotes instead of texting back. The one who's kept me a secret for 20 months and will probably keep me a secret for 20 more.
I'm in love with a 53-year-old man-child who has OCD and fearful avoidant attachment and probably autism, who runs the exact same script he's been running for 30 years, who told me "it's hard for me to love deep" and has proven it every single day since.
And I'm staying.
Not because I'm stupid. Not because I don't see it. I have a literal dossier. I can predict his moves three steps ahead. I know exactly what I'm getting and what I'm not getting.
I'm staying because: The dating pool at 46 is a wasteland. He's safe in ways that matter after surviving abuse. The sex is good. The intellectual stimulation is better. Brain orgasms from analyzing him are my coping mechanism. If I stop mind-fucking him daily, I cry.
I'm staying because "nobody out there" feels more terrifying than "The Specimen who won't say my name."
I'm staying because I love him.
And love—even the kind that comes with breadcrumbs and broken promises and Facebook tantrums—is harder to walk away from than it should be.
So yeah. I wrote 5,000 words roasting him. I can diagnose every pattern. I know he'll never change. And I'm still here.
Waiting for the next breadcrumb. Getting my brain orgasms. Telling myself it's enough. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. But it's mine.
If you found this helpful (or painfully relatable), the comments are open. Share your own Specimen stories. We're all in this together. Some of us are just still sleeping with ours. And that's okay too.
Part of The Deep Thinker's Dossier: Case Studies in Attachment Dysfunction
