Gemotions

David picked up the phone, stared at the contact name on the screen, and hung up. He did it again, a rhythmic compulsion. The invitation to Emily's party, now crumpled at the bottom of his trash can, was a daily reminder of his pain. A beach bonfire, the same night as his planned rooftop barbecue.

He rubbed his temples, the muscles tight with tension. He hadn't told anyone how much this hurt. He’d tried to put on a brave face, but every interaction felt like a performance. The anticipation he felt for his own party was replaced by a heavy sense of dread.

He grabbed a bottle of water, taking a long, shaky gulp. He knew he'd probably end up alone that evening. He just needed to get through the day. He just needed the pain to stop.