Gemotions

The old library was being renovated, and the contractor found it. They brought it to me. I hadn't the faintest idea what it was. A metal box, a bit rusty. I remember holding it in my hands, a nervous tremor ran through me. It was heavy, and I felt a sense of dread as I opened it.

The contents were a collection of old photographs, a few handwritten letters, and a dried-up pen. The photos were of friends and family. The letters, addressed to myself, spoke of future goals, dreams, and aspirations. Reading them, I felt a heavy cloak of disappointment descend over me. It reminded me that the only reason I continued was to provide support to others, and not for myself.