Gemotions

David tossed the invitation into the trash, the crisp white paper landing with a soft thud. He’d never been one for nostalgia, for dwelling on the past. The present was enough, a constant struggle, a relentless push forward.

He walked over to the weight set in the garage, the iron bars gleaming in the dim light. He began to lift, each rep a release, a physical manifestation of the effort to push away the ghosts.

He pictured the faces of his classmates, their judgments, their expectations. They wouldn't understand. They couldn't. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms burning. He was a different man now, forged in fire.