Gemotions

She found the crumpled paper in the laundry basket, hidden beneath a pile of his sweaty gym clothes. The ink was smeared, the edges torn, as if it had been clutched and reconsidered. “Go skydiving.” “Master a musical instrument.” “Fall in love again.”

The words struck her like a physical blow. Her stomach clenched. She felt a pressing weight in her chest, a feeling of inadequacy that threatened to suffocate her. She felt the urge to destroy the list, to tear it into tiny pieces.

Instead, she smoothed the paper out, her fingers tracing the faded ink. She folded it carefully, placing it in the inside pocket of her jacket. Walking into the living room, she avoided his gaze, picking up the remote and switching on the television, the volume turned up loud.