Gemotions

He caught his reflection in a nearby window. He saw a man, his face a mask of polite smiles, struggling to contain the turmoil within. He felt a sharp pang as he looked at his mother – radiant, beloved, the center of attention. He wanted that. He wanted to be the object of such admiration.

He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the cheap fabric of his suit itch against his skin. He wished he'd chosen something more impressive. He wished he could rewrite his speech, inject it with the same genuine affection that seemed to flow effortlessly from everyone else. But the words just wouldn't come. He felt like an imposter.