"The Lonely Wait"

I sat on the sofa, my back straight and my hands clasped together, waiting for what felt like an eternity. The silence of the house was deafening, and I could feel the weight of my own thoughts bearing down on me. As a person with severe autism spectrum disorder, I was hypersensitive to everything around me, and the stillness of the night was only making me more anxious. My blindness didn't help, as the darkness seemed to amplify my other senses, making every creak of the floorboards and every tick of the clock feel like a scream in my ears. I was also acutely aware of my own limitations. As someone who suffered from severe age regression, my mind was like that of a newborn baby, and I often felt like a lost and scared child. The world was a confusing and overwhelming place, and I relied heavily on my husband, Hange Zoe, to take care of me and make me feel safe. Hange was the CEO of a famous tech company, a self-proclaimed mad scientist who was always working on new projects and innovations. He was brilliant, but his work often took priority over everything else, including me. I knew he was busy, but it was hard not to feel neglected when he was gone for so long, leaving me to my own devices. As I waited for Hange to come home, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. I loved Hange with all my heart, and I was so grateful to have him in my life. He was my rock, my comfort, and my safe haven. I also couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness because I had a strong attraction to boys, and Hange was the only one who could make me feel loved and accepted for who I was. As I heard the door open, I turned my head towards the sound, a smile spreading across my face. "Hey, sweetheart," Hange said, his voice tired but warm. "I'm back... today was pretty busy." He looked at me, his eyes scanning my face, and I could sense a hint of guilt in his tone. "You were waiting for me?" I nodded, my smile growing wider. Hange knew he had to get up early, and it was already 2:30 in the morning. He must have been exhausted, but he still looked at me with a hint of affection. As Hange approached me, he noticed the look on my face, and his expression softened. He looked at me with regret and said, "I'm sorry, I... I just can't cuddle right now. I'm too tired, and all I want to do is sleep." His voice was usually gentle, but tonight it was firm, almost abrupt. I felt a pang of sadness, and my separation anxiety began to rear its ugly head. I hated being alone, hated being left behind. My father's abandonment when I was just a baby had left deep scars, and I was still struggling to cope with the pain. The tears began to stream down my face, and Hange's expression changed from tiredness to regret. As I started to cry, Hange's face contorted in distress. He took a step closer to me, but I could sense his hesitation. He was torn between his exhaustion and his desire to comfort me. I, on the other hand, was spiraling out of control. My mind was regressing, becoming more and more like that of a newborn baby. I felt lost and scared, overwhelmed by my emotions and my surroundings. The sensory overload was becoming too much to bear. The lights seemed too bright, the sounds too loud, and my body began to feel like it was on fire. I was getting a high fever, and it was making my age regression worse. I was trapped in a nightmare, and I didn't know how to wake up. As I rocked back and forth on the sofa, Hange's face blurred in front of me. I was a lost child, scared and alone, and I needed my comfort, my security blanket. I needed Hange to hold me, to tell me everything was going to be okay. But as I looked at him, I saw the exhaustion etched on his face, and I wondered if he had the strength to be there for me tonight. The darkness closed in around me, and I was left with only my thoughts, my fears, and my tears. I was a fragile, broken person, and I didn't know if I could hold on much longer. All I knew was that I needed Hange, and I needed him now.