Gemotions

The restaurant’s festive atmosphere, with its sparkling lights and boisterous laughter, suddenly felt suffocating. Mark, standing across from him, seemed utterly bewildered. He kept repeating, “I’m sorry, but… I don’t recognize you.” His expression was kind, genuinely puzzled. His eyes, usually crinkled with laughter when they were together, were now wide and questioning.

His chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out. He had rehearsed this meeting for weeks, preparing to rekindle their bond. To find this… This vacuum, it was too much.

His legs felt unsteady, his palms clammy. He gripped the edge of the table, as if to anchor himself to something solid. The weight of years, of shared experiences, of their childhood— it felt like it had vanished, leaving behind nothing but an echoing silence. He felt as if the air had been suddenly pulled from his lungs.