Gemotions

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. My father, with a genuine smile, was embracing Mormonism. His joy felt like a betrayal. I stared at the carefully arranged furniture in the living room, the familiar objects now seeming alien and unfamiliar.

My chest constricted, making it difficult to draw a full breath. I excused myself, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. I felt a profound sense of loss, as if something precious had been irrevocably taken from me.