Gemotions

He had been the only one. The only advisor who had truly understood the scope of her project, the subtle nuances, the direction she had to head. Now, the news. "Resigning at the end of the term," Dr. Chen had said, his voice flat in the meeting this morning. Thomas felt the room tilt.

He had spent the last two years trusting in Dr. Chen's guidance. The man was his anchor. Now, the anchor was lifting. He excused himself, abruptly, citing a sudden headache.

He walked aimlessly, the campus bustling around him, the cheerful chatter of his peers grating against him. He felt exposed, stripped bare. The wind bit at his exposed skin, a harshness he hadn’t noticed before. He clenched his jaw, fighting back a rising tide of emotion he didn't want to acknowledge.

He couldn't shake the sensation of being adrift, cast out. His carefully planned schedule dissolved in a sea of uncertainty.