Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen of his laptop, the cursor blinking like a mocking eye. He should be working, searching for a new job, anything to feel productive. Instead, he felt paralyzed, unable to focus, unable to begin. The weight of his unfulfilled potential pressed down on him, a heavy shroud.

He leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the springs a harsh sound in the quiet room. He felt a surge of bitterness, a familiar resentment toward the world, toward himself. He was tired of pretending, tired of the forced smiles, tired of the constant battle against his own inner demons.

His father knocked and entered the room. "Are you getting any work done, son?" His voice was kind and he forced a smile. He hated feeling like a burden.