Gemotions

He saw it in her handwriting, the looping script so familiar, yet suddenly foreign. "Learn to play the piano." James’s legs felt like jelly. "Travel to Japan." He squeezed his eyes shut. His own heart felt as though it were being squeezed. The list, left casually on the coffee table, was a collection of dreams he knew nothing about.

A deep ache settled in his chest, a physical manifestation of the hurt. He picked up the list, tracing the words with a trembling finger. Why wasn't he enough? What was missing? He felt a desperate need to understand, to fix, to rewind time and somehow insert himself into these unknown plans.

He threw the list onto the table, the paper fluttering softly. The silence in the room screamed, a deafening indictment of his perceived failures. He felt a tear track down his cheek and he angrily brushed it away, willing the emotions to cease.