**Chapter 1: The Weight of Abandonment**

The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to screech in my sensitive ears, a cacophony of sound that pierced through my eardrums like a sharp knife. I winced, my hands instinctively covering my ears, but it didn't help. The lights were always there, a constant reminder of the world that was too much for me to handle. As a person with severe autism spectrum disorder, every sensory input was amplified, making everyday experiences a struggle. I sat on the sofa, my back against the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible. My eyes, or rather, the empty sockets where my eyes used to be, felt like two dark voids that had been hollowed out. Blindness was a part of my life, a condition that made me rely on my other senses to navigate the world. But it was the hypersensitivity that made life a never-ending challenge. I was aware of every sound, every movement, every vibration in the air. The hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the soft rustle of the wind outside – it all blended together in a chaotic symphony that threatened to overwhelm me at any moment. As I sat there, I felt a familiar anxiety creeping up my spine. It was a feeling that had become all too common in my life, a nagging sense of fear that I was going to be abandoned again. My father had left me when I was just a baby, and the memories of that abandonment still lingered, festering like an open wound. But I wasn't alone. Hange Zoe, my husband, was my rock, my safe haven. He was the CEO of a cutting-edge tech company, a genius in his own right, but also a complex and busy person. His work consumed him, and I often found myself waiting for him, wondering when he would come home. The sound of the door opening broke the silence, and I perked up, my ears straining to pick up the sound of his voice. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm back.. today was pretty busy," he said, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion. I smiled, my face lighting up with joy, and I could sense his gaze on me, trying to read my expression. "You were waiting for me?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. I nodded, my eyes... well, the empty sockets where my eyes used to be... fixed on the general direction of his voice. I didn't need to see him to know he was tired. I could hear it in his voice, feel it in the way he moved. "I'm sorry, I...," he began, his voice trailing off as he looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time since he walked in. I could sense his guilt, his regret, and it only fueled my anxiety. "I'm sorry, I... can't cuddle right now.. I'm too tired and all I want to do is sleep.." he stated, his voice firm, but laced with a hint of apology. Tears began to stream down my face, hot and bitter, as I felt my separation anxiety spiking. I didn't understand why he couldn't hold me, why he couldn't comfort me. I felt like a lost child, abandoned and scared. Hange's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me, his voice gentle. "Baby, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to...," but it was too late. I had already regressed, my mind retreating to a place of safety, a place of infancy. I was a newborn baby, scared and lost, unsure of what was happening or why Hange was pushing me away. The world was too much for me, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. All I wanted was to be held, to be comforted, to be safe. As I sat there, tears streaming down my face, Hange's expression crumpled, and he knelt down beside me, his voice a gentle whisper. "Shh, baby... I'm here... I'm not going anywhere..." But I was already gone, lost in a world of fear and abandonment, and I didn't know how to find my way back.