Gemotions

The invitation sat on the kitchen counter, a silent accusation. Michael avoided looking at it, but it was always there, a constant reminder. He felt a tightness in his chest, a feeling that intensified with each passing day. He avoided the phone, anticipating the inevitable questions.

He stared out the window, at the busy street below, and a wave of nausea washed over him. The thought of seeing everyone, of having to engage in the forced pleasantries, filled him with dread. He felt a profound sense of isolation, even amidst the bustling city.

He spent the evening pacing his apartment, the floorboards groaning under his restless steps. He replayed old memories, each one adding to the growing sense of anxiety. He reached for a drink, the bitter taste doing little to soothe the internal turmoil.