Gemotions

He stared at the bouquet, a tangled mess of bright pink carnations and baby's breath. They sat on the kitchen counter, an unwanted reminder of everything that was missing. No card, of course. Just the flowers. He hadn't eaten all day. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he repeated far too often now. The silence of the apartment was a living thing, pressing in on him. He walked to the window, the world outside blurred and indistinct through his tear-filled eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling of being utterly alone.