Gemotions

The weight of the box felt disproportionately heavy as Daniel dragged it into the living room. His mother, beaming, had followed him, eager to help. He forced a smile.

He unearthed a series of elaborate, color-coded notes he’d taken in high school. The detail was almost obsessive. He remembered the pressure he’d felt, the need to achieve, to impress.

He stumbled upon a math test, marked with a red pen and a very unflattering grade. His chest constricted. He remembered the feeling of failure, the disappointment. The air felt thick.

"Remember this?" his mother asked, her voice brimming with pride.

He busied himself with the next box. “Yes, Mom,” he replied, his voice strained. “Let’s… let’s just keep going.”