Gemotions

The invitation sat on Amelia's fridge, a cheerful splash of color next to her own, far less exciting, hastily scrawled note for her own birthday gathering. Mark’s party was the one everyone was going to. She could practically hear the music, the laughter, the clinking glasses from her apartment. The air in her own place felt stale, the silence oppressive.

She swiped a finger across the counter, the dust a tangible sign of her neglect. She’d spent the whole day re-arranging the furniture, a frantic attempt to make her tiny living room feel more festive, more… inviting. It looked worse than before.

Her phone buzzed. A group text. "See you at Mark's tonight!" A knot tightened in her stomach. She’d made the wrong choice, hadn't she? The wrong damn choice.