Suzanne, I take comfort in the silence, because it's an opportunity to let my intuition and hidden emotion venture out, carefully, like antennae or whiskers, to explore the silence, and what it's saying. I find that silence never says nothing, but I also know that I don't necessarily know what the silence is saying. So I listen, because when the words do come, they come out of whatever the silence set up.
I don't feel obligated to break the silence, and I'm pretty sure that most times I'm not the most important thing in the room or in other people's priorities or thoughts. Unless they're staring at me, I just let them think. Some feedback I've gotten is that it's really comfortable being around me then, because I'm not placing any demands on another overstressed mind--even NTs get that, and they don't have as much experience of it as we do. Because I'm usually trying to process the data, I under-react, and other people experience that as soothing in a charged atmosphere.
I'm also touched by your appreciation of a reply, Suzanne. In touring the blogs, as a newbie, I've been wondering whether to use my own blog as a place to just scream and weep, and not expect reply--I certainly need a place for text-driven meltdown--or a place to work out some ideas, and hope someone's interested enough to comment. I imagine that for a lot of aspies who don't talk in conversation, a blog doesn't obviously say, "please tell me what you think, can you relate, is it just me or are there others?" I'm not trying to put words in your mouth, these are my thoughts only. And blogs do favor the verbal.
If it's any comfort, if you can tell who's read your post, it's probably safe to assume you've made a difference to them, one way or another. Can you see that reading you validates the value of your blog, whatever they make of it. The first thing is how the words helped or didn't help the other person, and what new thoughts are coming into being because you risked sharing some of yourself. Make sense?