Gemotions

The pizza tasted like cardboard. He forced himself to take a bite, the flavor failing to register. He watched as his roommate, David, regaled a group of friends with a funny anecdote. David's eyes landed on him, and he looked away.

The laugher stung. The knowledge of his vulnerability, of his innermost thoughts being dissected and analyzed, had poisoned everything. He felt a constant ache in his chest, a dull throb of dread.

He wanted to disappear, to melt into the background, to become invisible. He excused himself from the gathering, the words catching in his throat, and retreated to the safety of his room.