Gemotions

The ferry churned through the choppy waters, a plume of white foam trailing behind. I leaned against the railing, the wind whipping through my hair, but even the gusts couldn't stir any restlessness in me. I felt weighted, as if rooted to the spot. The vast expanse of ocean mirrored the emptiness inside.

Then, a hand touched my arm, a gentle gesture of connection. I turned and met the gaze of a girl, eyes as clear and still as the sea itself. "It's the condition, isn't it?" she asked, her voice calm, devoid of surprise.

I nodded, the word a small, insignificant sound carried away by the wind. She smiled, a shared understanding passing between us. The world, for a moment, seemed to slow, to pause.