Gemotions

The notification popped up during a rare moment of lucidity. “Megan Thompson wants to be your friend.” John pressed his knuckles into his eyes, a desperate attempt to ward off the encroaching shadows. The memories of Megan, her cutting remarks and public humiliations, flickered in his mind like a malfunctioning projector.

His apartment was a mess, clothes strewn across the floor, dishes piled in the sink. The air hung thick with a stale, stagnant quality, mirroring the state of his emotional landscape. He hadn't bothered to change the sheets in over a week.

He felt a profound sense of weariness, a bone-deep exhaustion that seemed to permeate every cell of his body. He wanted to obliterate the past, the memories, the invitation that had somehow found its way to his screen. He closed his eyes and wished it all away.