"The Lonely Wait"

The darkness of the night was only illuminated by the faint glow of the city outside our large glass windows. I sat on the sofa, my ears covered with my hands, trying to block out the cacophony of sounds that constantly bombarded me. Every creak of the floor, every hum of the refrigerator, every distant siren was amplified in my mind, making it hard for me to focus. But I wasn't waiting for anything or anyone; I was waiting for Hange. My Hange. My husband. As a person with severe autism spectrum disorder, my senses were constantly on overload. The world was too bright, too loud, and too chaotic for me to handle. And to make matters worse, I was blind in both eyes, unable to see the world around me. But I didn't need to see to know that Hange was the only one who made me feel safe. My mind was like a newborn baby's, innocent and vulnerable. I had severe age regression, which made me act and think like a child. And my severe separation anxiety made me cling to Hange like a lifeline. It was a result of my father abandoning me when I was just a baby. The pain and fear of being left alone had stayed with me, even as I grew older. But I loved Hange with all my heart. He was my everything. And I was gay, only loving boys. He was my husband, my partner, my best friend. He was the CEO of a famous tech company, always busy with meetings, files, and paperwork. He often left early and came back home late, tired and exhausted. I didn't mind, though. I just wanted him to be happy. As I sat on the sofa, I heard the door open, and Hange walked in. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice tired but gentle. "I'm back. Today was pretty busy." He looked at me, and I could sense his gaze on me. "You were waiting for me?" I nodded, a huge smile on my face. I always waited for him. I always wanted to see him, to be with him. He noticed how happy I looked, and his expression changed. He looked guilty, and I could sense his regret. "I'm sorry, I...," he started to say, but then he stopped himself. "I'm sorry, I can't cuddle right now. I'm too tired, and all I want to do is sleep." He said it firmly, but I could sense the hesitation behind his words. My heart sank. I felt my separation anxiety spiking, and tears started streaming down my face. I was scared, so scared of being alone. Hange saw my tears, and his expression changed again. He looked regretful, and he took a step closer to me. But it was too late. I had already regressed, my mind going back to a state of pure fear and vulnerability. I was a lost child, scared and alone. I whimpered, my body shaking with sobs. Hange's face was a blur, but I could sense his concern. He knelt down beside me, his arms open. "Shh, baby," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." But I was too far gone, lost in a world of fear and anxiety. I clung to him, my body shaking with sobs, my mind a jumble of pure terror. And as I held onto him, I knew that I was in for a long night, a night of confronting my deepest fears and anxieties. But with Hange by my side, I knew that I could face anything. Or so I hoped.