Gemotions

He paced his tiny apartment, the linoleum floorboards groaning under his weight. A nervous energy propelled him from the kitchen to the window, over and over. "Hey_Its_Me," his online friend, lived in the same city. He felt his heart hammer against his ribs with each passing minute.

He’d spent weeks crafting the perfect witty texts, curating his online persona. The reality of seeing her, of being judged, was a dark cloud hanging over him. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt, a phantom itch prickling at his neck.

The date was set: a coffee shop downtown. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. He visualized every scenario, from pleasant conversation to utter silence, each outcome filling him with dread. He needed to get out, to walk, to do anything to distract himself. He grabbed his keys and rushed out the door.