Gemotions

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the collection of childhood trophies and ribbons adorning the shelf. Each trinket was a painful reminder of past achievements, of a life that seemed impossibly distant. He picked up a tarnished silver cup, running his thumb over the inscription. A wave of regret washed over him.

He felt a deep sense of inadequacy, a feeling that he had squandered his potential. He tossed the cup back onto the shelf with a clatter. His chest felt tight, his breath shallow. The walls of his childhood bedroom seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with the weight of his failures. He lay down in a way that he knew would hurt his back, and stared up at the ceiling.