Gemotions

The email inbox was a battlefield. Every new RSVP felt like a tiny stab wound. Sarah's birthday was a quiet dinner at her apartment, homemade lasagna, and a few close friends. Mark, however, was renting out a rooftop bar, promising cocktails and a DJ.

She found herself checking the attendance list on her own invitation every hour. The numbers remained stubbornly low. The apartment felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken anxieties.

She stood in front of the mirror, examining her reflection. Her face felt pinched, her shoulders hunched. She imagined the glittering scene at the rooftop bar, the laughter, the music, the effortless fun. A coldness spread through her, a feeling of being completely and utterly inadequate.