Gemotions

"A professional chef?" Alex's voice cracked. For her birthday, she'd planned a simple potluck dinner at her apartment. Sam, her friend, was excitedly chatting about their catered dinner party.

Alex felt a coldness creep into her fingers. She imagined the lavish spread, the perfectly plated dishes. Her own plans seemed suddenly lacking in luster.

The potluck dinner felt lackluster, the food a mishmash of contributions. Alex picked at her plate, the food tasting bland. She found herself struggling to contribute to the conversations.

She excused herself early, retreating to her room. Scrolling through social media, the images of Sam’s party felt like a punch to the gut. She slammed her laptop shut.