Gemotions

The couch cushions had molded to his form, becoming a second skin. Days blurred into nights, marked only by the shifting light through the blinds. "Pixel_King," his online confidante, was his only connection to the outside world. They shared code, shared secrets, and shared a deep understanding of feeling adrift.

Pixel_King was finally visiting. They would meet at a local arcade. He had been looking forward to this, but as the time drew nearer, an overwhelming sense of dread settled in his bones. The thought of physical interaction, of making small talk, felt like a monumental effort. He felt the familiar weight of self-doubt and self-loathing.

He stared at his reflection, a stranger staring back at him. He didn’t know if he could.