Gemotions

David, a lifelong swimmer, was asked to switch strokes. He was the butterfly specialist, the one who glided through the water with effortless grace. Now, he would be doing the backstroke. He felt a strange ache, a hollow space within him. He usually loved the water, but now, the pool seemed vast and unforgiving.

He lingered in the changing room, the damp air clinging to his skin. The other swimmers, laughing and chatting, seemed to belong to a different world. He stared at his reflection, a stranger staring back. He felt like he had been unmoored from the thing that had once defined him.

He ended up avoiding the team dinner. He had no desire to speak to anyone. He went home to an empty house, the silence amplifying the echo inside him. He would struggle through the next day, and he knew he would be more alone than ever.