Gemotions

"It's just… different," Lisa stammered, picking at the loose threads on the tablecloth. Her sister, Maria, was explaining her decision to convert to Judaism, her words flowing easily, filled with the joy of discovery. Lisa, on the other hand, felt a strange, suffocating pressure in her chest, the air around her suddenly too thick to breathe.

She kept her eyes fixed on the tablecloth, unable to look up. Every word, every explanation, felt like a deliberate betrayal of everything they had shared. Her sister's smile felt like a knife, twisting and turning within her.

She excused herself abruptly, claiming a sudden headache. The truth was, she needed to be alone, away from the relentless optimism, away from the piercing happiness that felt like a personal affront. She rushed to the bathroom, clutching her head, the world tilting precariously on its axis.