Gemotions

The constant presence of his mother was a physical weight on his chest. He felt like a child again, not because she treated him that way, but because her mere presence evoked the old familiar shame. Each time they ate dinner together, he would sit in silence, refusing to make eye contact.

He started waking up earlier, before anyone else, taking long walks, hoping to find some sense of autonomy, some sense of self. He would walk through the empty streets, feeling the cold air, trying to breathe, but his chest always felt tight.

He knew that he needed to get over this feeling, but it felt impossible. When he got back home, his parents would be awake, waiting for him.