Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring before his eyes. "Meet at the comic book store. I'll be wearing a green jacket." For months, he’d confided in 'SuperFanSam,' sharing his love for obscure comics and his dreams of becoming an artist. He'd poured his heart out, vulnerable and honest.

He found 'SuperFanSam' browsing a display, and it was a middle-aged man in a green jacket. The man was holding a comic book, a particularly cheesy one that was not in good condition. The man looked up and he said, "You the guy who thinks my drawings are actually good?"

A wave of mortification rushed over him. His carefully crafted self-image, his artistic ambitions, felt suddenly juvenile and foolish. He cleared his throat, mumbled something about a wrong turn, and swiftly turned on his heel.