Gemotions

The appointment was booked, the consultation scheduled. He tried to think of it as a professional meeting, a simple exchange of information. But his insides twisted at the mere thought. He'd gone to her to finally be able to talk about the things that made his life unbearable, and now he would have to face the person who had caused the majority of them.

He kept busy, trying to distract himself, but his mind kept returning to the same image: her face. The way she would look at him. The way she would speak. Would she remember? He hated that it felt like he was walking into a warzone. He kept trying to talk himself out of it. He needed to be strong, to be calm. But he felt as if his very bones were turning to ice.

He found himself wandering around his apartment, pacing the same well-worn paths he’d walked since he'd moved in years ago, staring at his shoes. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating. He needed to get out. He needed to escape.