Gemotions

He stared at the photograph, the grainy image a portal to a different time. It showed him and Michael, their faces lit by the glow of a bonfire on the beach. They were both younger, both carefree.

"Remember that night?" Michael asked, gesturing toward the picture with a fond smile. "We stayed up all night, talking about our futures."

A tightening in his chest made it hard to breathe. He remembered the night, too, but not the same way. He remembered feeling awkward, self-conscious. The conversation, for him, had been full of unspoken expectations, of a future he wasn’t sure he wanted. He felt the familiar weight of his own internal shame, a sensation he couldn't name.

He mumbled something, averting his gaze. The photograph suddenly seemed distant and alien.