Gemotions

The weight room was usually his sanctuary, a place where sweat and exertion washed away his troubles. But today, the heavy iron felt leaden in his hands. He went through the motions of his usual workout, the familiar routines now feeling meaningless, a hollow echo of his former self.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles aching not from the workout, but from the internal strain. The music blasting from the speakers felt distant and disconnected, its rhythm failing to synchronize with the erratic beat of his heart. He slammed the weight down, the clang a harsh punctuation mark to his despair.

He could feel the burn of tears behind his eyes.