Gemotions

The news arrived in a frantic phone call. The words, "Boston, immediate," were enough to send a shiver through me. My hands felt cold and clammy, the phone slipping slightly in my grasp. The cheerful lilt of their voice, usually a comfort, now grated on my nerves.

My mind raced, replaying every shared memory, every inside joke, every shared secret. The images flashed before my eyes, a montage of happy moments. I had to focus on the conversation, but my thoughts kept straying. I felt a tightening in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. I felt myself withdraw, becoming distant and quiet.

"When are you leaving?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The question felt like a challenge, a plea for them to reconsider. The reply, a date, was like a physical blow.