Gemotions

He drove with the windows down, the wind whipping through his hair, but it didn't do anything to lessen the tightness in his chest. The car had been his only comfort since the news broke. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. The diary, all that adolescent emotion, now laid bare for the world to pick at.

He pulled over to the side of the road, the engine idling. He felt the familiar weight in his head, a kind of fog that made it hard to think. He looked out the window, at the rolling fields, and wanted to be anywhere else. He felt so very tired.

He rested his forehead against the steering wheel. He wanted to go home, but the thought of the apartment, the empty rooms, filled him with a dread he couldn’t name. He just wanted it all to be over.