Gemotions

It wasn’t just the cramped quarters. It was the feeling of being watched, constantly. Every comment, every glance, felt like a judgment. He knew his parents meant well, but their concern felt like a weight, pinning him down.

He walked past the closed door of the room he'd had as a child, and the idea of what it would be like in there seemed unbearable. He went to the kitchen and made a sandwich, but he couldn't eat. His stomach was clenched, a tight knot of nerves. He stood in the living room, chewing the sandwich and staring out the window.

He felt a compulsion to move, to escape this feeling of stagnation. He paced back and forth, restless, unable to settle. He picked up his phone, then put it down. He wanted to call someone, but he didn't know who. He felt profoundly alone.

He dropped the unfinished sandwich in the trash.