Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling, the patterns of water stains mocking him. Years of self-imposed solitude had etched lines of exhaustion onto his face. The apartment was a mausoleum of forgotten hopes, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and regret. A crumpled piece of paper materialized, pushed under his door. It was from Emily, his college sweetheart, the woman he'd discarded for ambition. He should have known better, he thought, the weight of the past pressing down on him, making it difficult to breathe. He felt a profound sense of hollowness.