Gemotions

"And now, for a few words from Michael, our son," the emcee announced, his voice booming through the room. Michael’s stomach lurched. He forced a smile, the muscles in his face protesting. He took a step towards the podium, each movement heavy, deliberate.

His mother looked radiant, her eyes sparkling. His father beamed with pride. He felt a sharp jab of self-reproach. He'd let them down, again and again. He’d prioritized his own pursuits, his own comforts, and the price had been steep.

He’d spent his life looking outward, chasing a fleeting sense of validation, ignoring the people who truly mattered. He could practically feel the warmth emanating from his parents, and it was almost unbearable. His throat closed, and he felt a flush of heat rise in his cheeks.