Gemotions

Rain hammered against the windowpane, mirroring the relentless drumming in Eleanor’s head. She stared at the ceiling, unseeing, a stale cup of tea cold on the bedside table. Liam was gone, out on a bike ride, and the silence in the apartment was a suffocating blanket. She dragged herself out of bed, the effort exhausting, and started aimlessly wandering. That’s when she saw it – tucked away in the back of his sock drawer: a worn leather-bound notebook. Curiosity, a dull ache she hadn't felt in weeks, stirred.

Her fingers trembled as she flipped open the cover. "Things To Do Before I Die," it read in Liam's neat handwriting. A cold wave washed over her as she scanned the list: *Learn to surf. Climb a mountain. Write a novel.* Suddenly, the vibrant life she knew him to possess, a life she felt disconnected from, shone with a cruel, painful clarity.

She remembered his earlier excitement that morning, talking about the upcoming cycling trip. Now, the image of him, laughing and energetic, felt like a scene from a forgotten dream. Looking at the list, she felt a terrible sense of isolation, as if he lived in a world she couldn’t even glimpse.