Gemotions

The small dictionary lay on the bedside table, open to the page with the word "amor." He ran his finger over the definition: "love." His partner, Ethan, had never shown any interest in Italian. Never expressed any longing to learn it. His mouth felt dry. The silence of the apartment felt heavy, oppressive, as if the air itself was thick with unspoken truths.

He collapsed onto the bed, the mattress still bearing the imprint of Ethan's body. He closed his eyes, but the image of the dictionary, the word "amor", burned behind his eyelids. The weight in his chest was crushing. He wanted to go back.