Gemotions

She threw the diary back onto the table, the cover slamming shut with a satisfying thud. Her shoulders slumped. The time capsule had been a long shot, a desperate attempt to jog her memory. The journal was filled with youthful scribbles, inside jokes, and dreams she no longer understood. The handwriting was hers, undeniably, but the sentiments felt foreign, alien. The whole damn thing was a joke. She paced the room, her footsteps echoing her rising agitation. She was no closer to understanding the missing years.