Gemotions

He found it wedged between the pages of his father's old journal – a letter he’d never even remembered writing. It was addressed to a college friend, penned during a particularly trying time. The paper was yellowed, the ink faded, the words a stark reminder.

*I feel like I'm flailing,* the letter confessed. *I try to stand on my own two feet, but I always end up back where I started. Lost, without a compass.*

His own reflection in the dusty glass of the window stared back at him. His jaw clenched, a muscle memory of constant tension. He’d achieved so much in life, yet he felt this persistent, nagging sensation of not being able to manage things on his own. He was the CEO, the husband, the father, but the feeling of being incomplete without another’s hand guiding him lingered.