Gemotions

The “Open House” sign, digitally displayed, triggered a familiar knot in Leo's stomach. He’d seen the listing a week prior, but had avoided it, knowing it would stir up old ghosts. He should’ve moved on, found a therapist. The impulse to look again, however, was too strong.

He scrolled through the photographs, each one a jab at his inadequacies. The freshly painted walls reminded him of all the things he hadn't achieved. He felt the familiar weight of disappointment settle in his chest.

He sighed, the sound lost in the sterile silence of his apartment. He was forever the underachiever, the one who never quite measured up.