Gemotions

The room spun. He adjusted his tie, the silk feeling strangely alien against his skin. He glanced at the assembled guests, a sea of faces blurring slightly at the edges. A nervous giggle escaped his lips. He was the only one up here. All eyes were on him.

He cleared his throat, feeling a tingling sensation in his fingertips. The speech he’d so meticulously crafted felt inadequate, insufficient. Instead, he started improvising, weaving a narrative of his parent's life, embellishing details, adding flourishes of humor that felt utterly spontaneous. He gesticulated wildly, his voice rising and falling with the rhythm of his own internal excitement.

He felt weightless, unbound. He told a story about their first date, exaggerating their teenage awkwardness, and the crowd roared with laughter. He was riding a wave of something, exhilaration, a giddy rush.