Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, now felt like a cruel joke. Michael hadn't touched it. The rejection, a heavy weight, pressed on his chest. He felt his face heat up, eyes pricking.

His apartment, usually neat, was slowly turning chaotic. He hadn’t made his bed, or done the dishes. He felt paralyzed, unable to muster the motivation to do anything. Even breathing seemed a chore.

He scrolled through social media, the curated happiness of others a bitter pill to swallow. The manuscript, his child, his dream, was not good enough. The feeling of failure was a physical presence, a constant ache.