Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, unread for nearly a week. The subject line, “Your Teenage Diary – Now Online!” had a garish, overly enthusiastic font, which she normally would have deleted immediately. Today, however, it remained. She traced the cursor over the words, then clicked. Her shoulders slumped slightly as the webpage loaded. It was real. Someone, somewhere, had actually taken the inane ramblings of her fifteen-year-old self and made them public. She felt a peculiar, sinking sensation, like being weighed down by something invisible.

The first entry, a lament about a boy named Chad, appeared. Eleanor felt her cheeks flush, a slow, creeping heat. She clicked the "next entry" button, and watched the words of her younger self scroll past. Each line, a tiny dagger. She knew she should close the browser, but the mouse seemed too heavy to lift. A sense of weary acceptance washed over her as she continued reading.

She let out a small, quiet sigh. The world outside the window was busy, but inside, everything was still. A long, slow exhale left her lips as she continued scrolling.