Gemotions

Sarah stared at the doctor, the words echoing in her ears. "Cystic Fibrosis, but… atypical," he’d said, a frown etched on his face. She’d always felt like an imposter, her symptoms distinct from the textbook cases. Then, in the online support group, she'd met Liam.

He wrote about the same strange, fleeting moments of breathlessness, the same inexplicable metallic taste, the same odd sensitivity to the color orange. She checked her own chest, feeling the unfamiliar thump of her heart speeding up, a sudden pulse of adrenaline that made her fingers tingle. She’d never had any friends before, and now, suddenly, she had a kindred spirit.

They met at a seaside cafe, the air thick with the scent of salt and the cries of gulls. She laughed for the first time in ages, the sound spilling out of her as she talked about her life, and he listened, nodding, his face animated as he revealed his own experiences. It was freeing.