Gemotions

The static on the television was a fitting soundtrack to his current mood. Michael, slumped on the couch, scrolled through another endless thread from "MysticMaven." Her daily posts about self-care and positivity felt like a form of torture. He was the opposite of her. The idea of getting up and doing anything felt utterly beyond his capabilities. He gave a curt response.

He knew he should be grateful for his friendships, but they felt so distant, so unreal. He’d told her he lived in the city, as did she. He never thought their paths could cross. He didn't want them to. A message popped up: a photo of a restaurant she was at. The name was familiar. He checked her profile, then zoomed in on the map. She was practically next door.