Gemotions

The silence of the house was a suffocating weight. He sat in his childhood bedroom, the room a museum of shared memories, now a painful reminder of what was lost. The posters on the wall, the old books on the shelf, the faded toys in the corner. Each object triggered a fresh wave of pain. He felt paralyzed.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture. The feeling of the carpet beneath his feet, the familiar scent of old wood, the presence of the things that they once shared; it now had a hollow quality. He wanted to break something, to scream, but the words were stuck.

He just stared into space, trapped in a world where the past didn’t exist.