Gemotions

He found the invitation tucked between the bills and the flyers for pizza. David tossed it aside, the crisp paper making a discordant sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. He felt a leaden ache in his chest, a sensation that had become increasingly familiar over the past few months.

He knew he should RSVP, but the thought of it paralyzed him. The prospect of feigning happiness, of pretending to be thrilled about his life when the truth was a tangled mess of unmet goals and broken promises, was utterly demoralizing.

He stared out the window, the city lights blurring through the rain-streaked glass. A sense of disconnection, a feeling of being adrift, washed over him. The party felt like an obligation he couldn't face.