Gemotions

David ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more frantic than casual. He stared across the worn wooden table at Marco, who was beaming, retelling the story of their winning goal in the high school soccer championship. Marco painted a picture of skillful teamwork and dazzling victory. David, however, remembered the searing pressure he felt, the ball at his feet, the roar of the crowd, and the agonizing weight of responsibility.

The celebratory cheers that Marco recalled were, to David, the shouts of his peers, which felt as though they were filled with judgement. The euphoria that Marco felt was completely foreign to David. When Marco slapped him on the back, David flinched slightly, the phantom sting of the missed penalty still vivid in his memory.

"Yeah, great game," David mumbled, his throat suddenly dry. He reached for his water glass, took a long swallow, trying to physically wash away the memory of the defeat, the disappointment, and the feeling that he’d let everyone down. The joy seemed so superficial, the game now just an annoyance.