Gemotions

He took the email, unopened, and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. Later, he'd have to look, but not yet. The smell of his mother’s lasagna filled the air, a familiar comfort he usually embraced. Today, however, it just added to the pressure, a silent expectation he couldn’t meet. He kicked at a loose shoelace, the knot long gone, the shoe just hanging on. The living room TV blared a football game, a reminder of the season he'd thought he'd be preparing for. He knew the news, he'd known for weeks.

He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, taking a long, slow swallow. He knew what he had to do. He'd done it before. He just felt… heavy, like his feet were glued to the floor. The cheers from the TV sounded distant, muffled. He leaned against the counter, the cold ceramic a small relief.