Gemotions

The therapy session was a farce. A room of sad faces, forced empathy, and the well-meaning platitudes of the therapist. She hated it. The same questions, the same awkward silences, the same predictable responses.

Then, there he was. A man. Another patient. He had the same condition. He sat beside her, and the space between them suddenly seemed to shrink.

He started talking, his voice a low rumble. He told a story, and she recognized the beats, the emotions, the underlying fear. She cut him off. Her face was set. She would not let this stranger understand her. Not here, not now, not ever. The world began to feel suffocating. She stood up to leave.