Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the locker room buzzed, a harsh counterpoint to the silence. I watched the kid from across the room, carefully packing his gear. His movements were slow, deliberate, each fold of the jersey a tiny act of defiance against the inevitable. I had to let him go.

The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken things. I kept my distance, feigning preoccupation with my own equipment. The knot in my stomach tightened with every silent second. It felt impossible to meet his eyes.

I remembered the fire, the drive, the raw potential. I knew how much this meant. How much *he* had given. The feeling in my chest was unpleasant, a dull pressure that made it difficult to breathe. This wasn't how I had planned this.