Gemotions

The invitation, a beautifully designed card, lay open on the kitchen counter. I stared at the elegant script, a cold stone forming in my belly. “Farewell Party for Alex.” My closest friend, gone. The party was for him, but I felt excluded from it. My chest felt tight, constricted.

I felt suddenly clumsy, knocking over a stack of plates as I moved through the kitchen, the clatter echoing the chaos within me. My hands shook as I picked them up, the porcelain shards feeling sharp and dangerous. I felt a growing sense of detachment, as if I were observing myself from a distance. The familiar scent of coffee from the pot on the counter felt foreign, disconnected.

I needed to get out, to escape the confines of the house. I grabbed my keys, practically running out the door, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap. The world seemed to be closing in around me. The thought of the future felt bleak.