Gemotions

"Did you see the new exhibit at the museum, Alex?" I asked, trying to sound enthusiastic. He'd never talked about the museum when we were together. He had always claimed to be an art critic. I’d seen him today, though, sorting mail at the post office. A dull ache throbbed behind my eyes.

The silence that followed was suffocating. His usually bright smile was replaced with a forced composure. My own voice felt thin and fragile, as if I spoke in a vacuum. I quickly changed the subject, attempting to bridge the distance that had opened between us. The effort left me feeling even more exhausted.