Gemotions

He stared at the page, the ink of his own words mocking him. "Featured Student Essay: A Guide to Collegiate Success," it blared. The article's formatting was impeccable, but for him, it was a violation. He’d poured his soul into that application, revealing secrets he hadn’t even confessed to his closest friends. Now, everyone could read about his adolescent angst and his aspirations.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. A nervous energy began to pulse through him, a thrumming sensation that made his skin prickle. He crossed his legs, feeling the subtle friction of his jeans against his thighs. He stood up and walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He took a long, slow gulp.

He remembered the feeling of writing it: the late nights, the struggle to find the right words, the vulnerability. It was like someone had taken a magnifying glass and focused it directly on his heart. He felt a need to be away from the room, from the words. He decided he needed to go for a run.