Gemotions

The cheerful, glossy invitation mocked her from the side table. "Reconnect," it pleaded, as if she had any desire to. She picked it up, and felt it crinkle in her grasp, even though she hadn't touched it with much force.

She remembered the relentless pressure to conform, the social landmines she’d had to navigate every single day. She remembered the sense of isolation, the feeling of being perpetually misunderstood.

She walked to the sink and turned on the tap, letting the water run. The invitation felt clammy in her hand. She stared at it, and then dropped it into the water.