Gemotions

He ripped the invitation open, his knuckles white. The words swam before his eyes. He tossed the invitation across the room. The paper landed on the floor. He paced the worn rug of his living room, the familiar movements offering no solace. He had avoided this for so long. Now, it was here, a blunt reminder of a life that hadn't unfolded as planned.

He imagined seeing her, the girl he’d been so sure he’d marry. He wondered if she’d be there with someone else, with a family, with a life that he couldn't have. The thought sent a jolt of ice through his veins. He imagined them all, laughing, reminiscing. And him? What would he say?

He picked up the phone, the number of a number of an old friend, a fellow castaway, hovering on the edge of his fingertips. But he didn't dial. The silence in the room was deafening. He poured himself a stiff drink. The alcohol did nothing to dispel the gloom.