Hi ((((Tupp))))
Wish I could cheer you and meet that fine boy in person.
From my (stunned) perspective -- with a now-estranged D I loved being with more than anything, and adored throughout her childhood -- I have come to understand that SHE was my best friend. And it wasn't good for her. (I did not know I was harming her, with my over-doting. And now I do.) You have a very different situation with your boy because of his autism (my D has mild Asperger's and not-mild bipolar disorder), but I hear faint echoes of your close relationship with him taking the place of friendships with your peers.
It has probably been essential, so far. There've been a hundred reasons it has been RIGHT (and even, no choice about it) for you to be so cocooned with him. But I wonder if you might be sensing the inevitability of change. He will become an older boy, then a young man, then a middle aged man, etc...and living with you, and you orbiting around him, may not always be the right thing for you both.
I think of you and friendships as about you (and your boy) breaking out, slowly and gently, of your closed cocoon together. He will always love and need you, and vice versa. He needs others, to reach all the potential he can. You need others for the same reason, though your paths are different.
I love the idea that you are saving to move to a more peaceful place to live. I so hope you can pull it off. And your yearnings for him to find friends and meaning and purpose of his own touch my heart. You want it for him. And you deserve it for yourself, too.
I loathe the idea of you feeling bleak, bitter, and lonely. You've walked a really hard road, on your own, for a very long time. I hope you can find some 3-D situations where there will be positive connections you can build on, for both of you. But separately, if that is workable for you and him.
Miserable as it is to feel uncared-for, by the people you've been friendly with for a long while -- it's very common. Sometimes people are afraid of too much sorrow. They just don't know what to do with it, even if it an ideal world, they would. Other people's pain always bangs up against our own helplessness. That's why I have found the UU church (in my case) absolutely essential to my mental health. Knowing that there is always someone, in that community, makes a huge difference.
The thing is, I no longer expect social friends (people whose main focus in getting together is to just laugh and drink or "play" -- even though those are great things too) to be the core source of comfort and strength in my life. I have learned to "spread it around." There are Covenant Groups (I'm in 2) for serious, heartfelt sharing of anything, no matter how painful, with no fear of rejection. There are playful "buddies" for showers and receptions and activities that are "lighter." There are a couple very close friends I could call any time, but I talk to them about once a week. There are pastoral counselors, one can call when one feels that without a caring ear one will break in two. There is a minister (two). There are adult faith classes that range all over the place, and friendships often come out of those. There are service auctions and potluck suppers just for gathering at tables and feeling a sense of "village." There are a zillion service oriented things to do (once a year or once a wee--you pick what you can and want to do)...helping the homeless, serving at a soup kitchen, working with kids, gathering for social justice causes (environment, peace, etc.).
This way, intentionally bonding with that larger community and identifying myself as belonging, a welcome part of it (I am) -- my situation hasn't overwhelmed any one friend, and in recent years, I've benefitted so much from the feeling of being an embraced member of a whole big group. I don't think I could ever have created that on my own. So that's why, in addition to my agnostic spirituality, I needed to turn to an organized, institutional community. Within it, in various overlapping circles, I did find a PHamily that cares.
Friends tried. Some could hold on during my worst times. Some faded away. But I still have some old friends, and continue to make new ones. And years back, I felt just as lost and isolated and lonely and unloved as you do right now.
It really can change. I hope you can find a community to belong to. They are around you. None of them perfect fits but all of them, full of people, enough of whom can care. Live can be worth living and even have its joys.
Love and comfort,
Hops