Gemotions

The vibrant colours of the art gallery felt overwhelming. He was acutely aware of every detail: the paintings, the people, the way his shoes felt on the polished floor. Across the room, Sarah was describing the opening night of their art exhibition, her voice full of pride.

"You were so confident, so sure of your vision," she said, gesturing toward one of the pieces. He could barely breathe.

He recalled a different night, a night of self-doubt and agonizing over every brushstroke. He wanted to disappear. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead.

He took a step back, suddenly eager to put distance between himself and the artwork, and Sarah. He pretended to examine a particularly abstract painting, hoping to fade into the background.