"A Lonely Night's Despair"

The dim hum of the living room's fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pierce through my sensitive ears like a thousand knives, making my head spin. I sat on the plush sofa, my back pressed against the soft cushions, my eyes fixed on some unknown point in front of me. Although I couldn't see a thing, my other senses were on high alert, making me acutely aware of every creak of the floor, every tick of the clock on the wall. My breathing was slow and deep, a trait I had developed over the years to cope with the overwhelming stimuli that constantly bombarded me. As a person with severe autism spectrum disorder, my senses were like a double-edged sword. On one hand, they allowed me to perceive the world in a unique way, but on the other, they made everyday experiences a challenge. The slightest sound, the faintest scent, or the gentlest touch could send me spiraling into a world of anxiety and fear. And, as if that weren't enough, my blindness made me rely on my other senses even more, making me hypersensitive to every little thing. My mind, a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions, was a product of my severe age regression. Mentally, I was a newborn baby, unable to grasp complex concepts or understand the world in a way that made sense to others. My thoughts were a jumble of needs and wants, of fears and desires. And, amidst all this chaos, I knew one thing for certain: I loved boys. I was gay, and my heart belonged to those with the same sex. But, above all, my deepest fear was being alone. The memories of my father abandoning me when I was just a baby still lingered, a constant ache in my heart that I couldn't shake off. Separation anxiety had become my constant companion, a shadow that followed me everywhere, making it hard for me to trust others or feel secure. The door opened, and Hange Zoe, my husband, walked in. His footsteps, light and quick, were a familiar comfort, and I turned my head in his direction, a wide smile spreading across my face. He looked tired, his eyes sunken, his skin pale. I could smell the exhaustion emanating from him, a mix of sweat and stress that made my heart ache. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and soothing. "I'm back... today was pretty busy." His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on me, he smiled weakly. "You were waiting for me?" I nodded, my smile growing wider. I had been waiting for him, sitting here for what felt like an eternity, my ears perked up, listening for the sound of his return. Hange's eyes lingered on me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of guilt. He looked at me, really looked at me, and I could sense his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "I'm sorry, I...," he began, his voice trailing off. "I'm just really tired, okay? I had a long day, and I have an early meeting tomorrow." He sounded apologetic, but his words were laced with a firmness that made my heart sink. I felt a lump form in my throat as he approached me. I could sense his fatigue, the weight of his responsibilities bearing down on him. But all I wanted was him, his touch, his comfort. I wanted to be close to him, to feel safe and loved. "I'm sorry, I... I really am," he said, his voice cracking. "But I just can't... I'm too tired, and all I want to do is sleep." Tears began to stream down my face, hot and bitter. I felt a wave of despair wash over me, and my mind, already fragile, began to unravel. I regressed, my thoughts fragmenting into a million little pieces, leaving me a scared, lost child. In that moment, I didn't understand what it meant to be tired. All I knew was that I wouldn't get the cuddles I so desperately craved. The world around me became a blur, and I was left with a sense of overwhelming fear, my PTSD triggered by the abandonment I felt. Hange's face was inches from mine, his eyes filled with regret, but I was lost, adrift in a sea of emotions, unable to grasp onto anything but the pain of his rejection. I whimpered, a small, pitiful sound, and Hange's expression softened, his eyes filling with compassion. But it was too late. I was already gone, lost in a world of fear and anxiety, my mind shattered by the thought of being alone once more.