Gemotions

He was cleaning out the car when he found it. A small, notepad tucked beneath the passenger seat. The title was simple: “Dreams.” His hands were shaking as he read the first entry. "See the Grand Canyon." He felt a jolt.

"Learn to speak French." "Write a poem." "Adopt a dog." His throat felt constricted. He’d never known. This side of her was completely foreign.

He sat in the driver's seat, the notepad clutched in his hand. “Tell him I love him, but I need more” was the last written sentence. His breath hitched in his throat. He felt suddenly, intensely alone.