Gemotions

The sun had been setting for hours, casting long shadows across his apartment. He was cleaning out the storage room and found an old, worn journal. As he flipped through the pages, he stumbled upon a section titled "My Dreams." He recognized his mother's penmanship immediately.

“Learn to play the piano,” “Visit the Grand Canyon,” “Travel the world.” The list felt like a wound opened up, raw and exposed. His mother, the most active person he knew, had kept her hopes private.

He closed the journal, a wave of weariness washing over him. The world outside felt blurry. The effort of doing anything at all seemed beyond him.