The Darkness of Abandonment

I sat on the sofa, my ears ringing from the deafening silence that filled the room. The darkness was suffocating, a constant reminder that I was blind to the world around me. My hypersensitive skin crawled with anxiety, every creak of the floorboards, every tick of the clock, amplified in my mind like a scream. I was a prisoner in my own home, trapped in a world of sensory overload. I was a person with severe autism spectrum disorder, and my mind was a maze of fears and anxieties. The world was a confusing and overwhelming place, and I relied on my husband, Hange Zoe, to guide me through it. But even with him by my side, I couldn't shake the feeling of abandonment that had haunted me since I was a baby. My father had left me, abandoning me to the mercy of the world. And now, as an adult, I was plagued by the fear that Hange would leave me too. That he would abandon me, just like my father had. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my heart racing with anxiety. I heard the sound of the door opening, and my head snapped up, my ears perked up in excitement. Hange was home. I smiled, a wide, toothy grin spreading across my face. I loved Hange, I loved him so much. He was my rock, my safe haven. And when he was with me, I felt safe, I felt protected. "Hey, sweetheart," Hange said, his voice tired, his footsteps heavy. "I'm back. Today was pretty busy." I nodded, my smile faltering for a moment. I didn't understand what "busy" meant, but I knew it wasn't good. It meant Hange was tired, and when Hange was tired, he didn't cuddle me. He didn't play with me. He just slept. "You were waiting for me?" Hange asked, his voice softening. I nodded again, my smile returning. I had been waiting for him, I had been waiting for what felt like forever. I wanted to be with him, I wanted to be close to him. Hange looked at me, his eyes filled with guilt. He could see the happiness in my face, and it made him feel guilty. He knew he hadn't been spending enough time with me, and it was eating away at him. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I'm just really tired. I have to get up early tomorrow." I felt a pang of disappointment, a pang of fear. He wasn't going to cuddle me, he wasn't going to play with me. He was just going to sleep. "I'm sorry, I just...I need to sleep," Hange said, his voice firm. I didn't understand what that meant. I didn't understand what "tired" meant. All I knew was that Hange wasn't going to cuddle me, and that hurt. It hurt so much. Tears began to stream down my face, hot and bitter. I felt overwhelmed, I felt lost. I was a scared, lost child, and I didn't know what to do. Hange saw the tears, and his face contorted in regret. He knew he had hurt me, and it was killing him. He reached out, his hand hesitating, and then he pulled back, leaving me alone in the darkness.