Gemotions

The letter lay on the coffee table, crisp and stark. Across the country. "Well," he muttered to the empty room. He picked it up, and tore it in half. Then again. And again. The remnants scattered like confetti.

He would not reminisce. He would delete all the old photos, block her on all social media. He'd erase any trace of their friendship. She could leave, but he'd make sure she'd leave no mark on him.

He stormed through the house, throwing open windows, letting the stale air escape. He'd go for a run, the longest run of his life, until his lungs burned and his legs screamed, just to escape the feeling.