Gemotions

“To the Future Me,” the letter read, the handwriting familiar and yet distant. Anna, now middle-aged, had unearthed it while rummaging through her old journals. It was written on the eve of her college graduation, a lifetime ago.

The words were full of ambition and dreams, a sharp contrast to her current reality. "I hope you haven’t lost your fire. I hope you're still chasing after something real." A bitter taste coated her tongue.

She felt the sting of disappointment, a constant companion she had learned to live with. Her chest felt heavy, as if a great weight had settled upon it.