Gemotions

I sat on the park bench, watching the children play, a scene that used to fill me with joy. Now, it just emphasized what I'd lost. The chance to have a family, to be the person I'd always envisioned. My body was a prison, and I was its unwilling prisoner.

The diagnosis had robbed me of everything I’d wanted. Every plan, every dream - rendered meaningless. The constant worry, the physical pain, the relentless feeling of being disconnected from life. The weight of it all was crushing.

A woman nearby started to cough. It was a hacking, desperate sound, that then morphed into something else entirely. Her eyes widened, her hands clawing at her chest.

Then it clicked. I recognized that terrible look. That fear. It was a mirror of my own. I got up.