Gemotions

He sat on the park bench, watching the children play. Their laughter sounded like a mockery. The letter, carefully sealed, lay in his lap. He hadn't broken the seal. He wasn't sure he could.

He remembered the betrayal, the humiliation, the slow, agonizing process of rebuilding his life. The memories were always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to resurface. The letter was a reminder. A cruel, unwanted reminder.

He closed his eyes, a familiar knot forming in his stomach. He wished he could simply erase the past, erase the pain, erase the person who had caused it. He opened his eyes and threw the letter in the trash.