Gemotions

"I can't breathe," he murmured, his voice hoarse. John was slumped on the floor of his tiny apartment. The air seemed thick, the walls closing in. The words he’d written, so raw and honest, were being used to make him an object of ridicule. He buried his face in his hands.

He had trusted his diary. He’d poured out his heart. Now, he was being punished for it. He felt the sting of tears prick his eyes, a sensation he hadn't experienced in years. The weight of it all was crushing.

He sat there, unmoving, lost in a miasma of dejection. He simply didn't know what to do.