Gemotions

The words hung in the air, thick and suffocating like a humid summer night. "We're moving to Seattle," Sarah had chirped, her face lit with a dazzling, hopeful smile. My stomach clenched. I gripped the chipped mug in my hands so tightly my knuckles turned white, the cheap ceramic threatening to shatter. My breath hitched in my throat, each inhale shallow and quick. *Seattle.* Miles and miles away.

The silence stretched, awkward and uncomfortable. I managed a weak, "Oh," the sound barely audible. My mind was a whirlwind, a chaotic dance of panicked thoughts. We had *plans*. A whole future mapped out, a shared tapestry of inside jokes and late-night talks and a future that felt ripped away from me. I felt a cold prickle start at the back of my neck and spread rapidly.

I excused myself abruptly, claiming I needed to use the restroom. The small, dingy bathroom offered a moment of solitude. I splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection. My eyes, usually bright, were wide and vacant. I looked like a stranger, unfamiliar and lost.