Gemotions

The therapy group always felt like a waste of time. Mark sat at the back of the circle, arms crossed, trying to look as detached as possible. He hated the forced positivity, the cheerful acceptance of a life he found increasingly difficult to bear. He didn't want to be "grateful." He wanted to be *normal.*

Dr. Chen was going on about "finding strength in community." Mark tuned her out, letting his gaze drift towards the window. Outside, the world moved on, oblivious. Couples strolled hand-in-hand, children laughed, cars whizzed by. He was trapped in a slow-motion film reel, his life a muted, blurry image.

A new face joined the group. A young woman with a sharp haircut and even sharper eyes. She seemed to read his thoughts as she looked around, her lips turning down. He felt a rare moment of connection.

"I'm Alex," she introduced herself, her voice a low murmur. "And this is…"

"The worst," Mark finished for her. She met his gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between them. He felt a moment of something like relief, a bond in the midst of everything.