Gemotions

He slammed the old wooden trunk shut, the lock catching with a brittle snap. He’d found the letter while clearing out his late father’s belongings. The handwriting – his own, from his teenage years – was an affront. He picked it up, his fingers curling around the worn paper like a fist.

"I need you to understand," the letter began. He snorted, the sound echoing in the silent house. It went on about wanting to be loved, to be seen. He tossed it onto the growing pile of things to get rid of. The whole thing made him feel almost…dirty. He really didn't need any reminders of who he used to be.