Gemotions

He saw her in the park, a place they had cherished. He approached her, hoping for recognition, for a shared glance. She looked up, her expression a mix of polite curiosity and nothing else. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you,” she said, her voice gentle, but distant. He felt a tremor in his limbs.

He wanted to scream, to shout her name until she understood. He remained silent, unable to form a word. His hands were clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He struggled to maintain his composure.

He turned and walked away, his steps heavy and slow. The park, once a symbol of joy and togetherness, now felt like a prison. The laughter of the children, usually a source of comfort, grated on his nerves. He yearned to be far away, to escape the suffocating reality.