Gemotions

The rain hammered against the window, mirroring the rhythm of my pulse. I sat on the worn couch, legs pulled up to my chest, the throw blanket a small comfort against the chill that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the apartment. Across the room, Maya was buzzing, a whirlwind of energy as she prepped for her pottery class. I watched her, mesmerized by her focused movements, the way her hands moved with a practiced grace. She was a force of nature. I felt…still.

She wanted a dog. A fluffy, bounding thing that would fill the void of our evenings, the silence we’d become accustomed to. I just wanted to…breathe. To exist in this quiet space, to listen to the rain, to not feel the overwhelming responsibility of another life. The thought of walks, of training, of constant attention, sent a wave of dizziness through me.

I sighed, the sound lost in the drumming rain. Another cup of chamomile, I thought. Maybe that would help.