Gemotions

He unfolded the letter, the paper crackling in the quiet of his study. He recognized the handwriting instantly: his own, from his university days. The intended recipient: his aloof, critical father. His stomach churned. He hadn't known he felt such a way.

The words detailed years of perceived disapproval, the feeling of never quite measuring up. He recalled the curt phone calls, the veiled criticisms. A knot tightened in his throat. He felt the familiar sting behind his eyes, a phantom tear.

He slammed the letter onto the desk. The sharp sound echoed in the room. He rubbed his temples, trying to dispel the sudden, overwhelming pressure in his head. Then he stood, needing to move, needing to shake off the oppressive memory.