Gemotions

"So, you've known for a while?" The question was clipped, bordering on rude. He sat beside her on the park bench, watching the ducks waddle across the pond. She seemed completely at ease, her posture relaxed.

The girl nodded. The park, usually a source of comfort for him, now felt oppressive. She spoke easily of her diagnosis, how she had coped with it, even embraced it. He had spent years struggling with the same symptoms, burdened by them.

He shifted uncomfortably, the rough wood of the bench digging into his back. The girl pointed and spoke with a smile. It was easy for her. He knew, suddenly, with a certainty that settled in his stomach like a stone, that he would never be so at peace.