Gemotions

He threw the letter onto the already overflowing kitchen counter, the action causing several teacups to clink together. The air was heavy with the smell of old paper and stale bread. His hands trembled as he reread the words, the childish plea for acceptance. His parents were so judgmental, back then. Nothing had changed.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the stubble of his beard scratch against his skin. This old letter was bringing back all the awful feelings. The memories of being belittled, ignored, unheard. He knew it was better to let go, but the old feelings were like a festering wound.

He took a deep, ragged breath. He needed to be alone. Now.