Gemotions

She wandered through her apartment, the same route she’d taken countless times. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and unwashed clothes. Days had blurred together. She felt like a shadow, moving through the world with an invisible cloak on.

The comment section below the blog post was already a feeding frenzy. The familiar thrill of the online world, the rush of validation and connection, was completely absent. Instead, a dull ache throbbed behind her eyes. One comment, a single emoji of a laughing face, felt like a personal assault.

She imagined the faces of people reading the diary, dissecting her teenage angst. The way she'd felt, so raw and exposed, felt like an ancient thing. Something that she could not bear to feel again. She pulled the curtains shut, shutting out the dull grey light.

She sank into the sofa, the cushions offering no comfort. She had forgotten what it felt like to be excited about anything.