Gemotions

The park bench was cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the internal heat of shame and disappointment. The vibrant laughter of children playing on the nearby swings seemed to mock his own subdued mood. He watched them, their carefree joy a world away from his own experience.

He fiddled with a loose thread on his jeans, unable to shake the feeling of being apart. The sky was an endless expanse of blue, indifferent to his small, insignificant troubles. He watched a couple stroll by, their hands intertwined, and felt a pang, a sharp ache in his chest, for a connection, for belonging.