Gemotions

The meticulously crafted invitations, the beautifully wrapped gifts, the meticulously planned playlist: all for naught. He tossed the gifts into a closet, the colorful paper crumpled and torn. The air in his apartment felt stale, devoid of the excitement he had felt earlier. He considered calling his mother, but the thought of the conversation, of the sympathy he knew she would offer, made him physically ill. He sat down and rubbed his forehead, the pressure building behind his eyes.