Gemotions

The cramped apartment felt smaller than usual. The stale air hung heavy, mirroring the weight on his chest. David slumped onto the sofa, the remote clutched loosely in his hand. He’d barely moved from this spot all day, avoiding all responsibilities.

A forgotten box surfaced from beneath the bed. Inside, a bundle of old photos and a letter, addressed to a former lover. It never went in the mail.

"I believe in us, I believe in us..." He remembered the hopeful voice of his younger self. Now, he couldn't believe in anything. The words felt hollow, a ghost of a love he'd destroyed, a life he'd thrown away. The silence of the apartment was a painful, constant reminder.