Gemotions

The pristine white pages of the notebook stared back at her. Her grandmother’s handwriting, elegant and precise, filled the first entry: "Plant a rose garden." "Learn to speak French." "Find happiness." The words felt like a punch to the gut. Elizabeth felt a tightness in her chest, a bitter taste in her mouth.

Her grandmother, a woman who always put others first, had harbored these secret desires. Elizabeth felt a wave of cold wash over her. It was a revelation, a betrayal almost. She wanted to scream at the injustice, at the sheer audacity. She wanted to tear it all up.

She threw the notebook across the room, it landed against the wall with a soft thud. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She sank to the floor, feeling the hard wood beneath her.