Gemotions

He picked at the loose threads on the couch, the fabric unraveling just like his life. His mother's handwriting, a familiar comfort and a cruel reminder. "Go to space." The words seemed to mock him. He was barely capable of going to the corner store.

The house was silent, the silence amplifying the echo of his own inadequacy. He hadn't slept properly in weeks, the nightmares relentless. He felt the phantom pressure of her hand on his shoulder.

He scanned the list again. "Forgive yourself." Impossible. The weight of his failures pressed down on him, suffocating him. He pulled the blanket tighter, seeking a refuge he knew wouldn't come.