Gemotions

The weight in her chest was a constant companion, a heavy anchor dragging her down. She moved through her days like a ghost, untouched by the world. She wandered into a small, dusty bookstore, hoping to find a place to hide. She picked up a random volume of poetry, the cover faded and the pages brittle.

Between the pages, she found a single piece of folded paper, a letter. The handwriting was frantic, the ink smeared in places. The writer confessed to a sadness so profound it felt like a physical burden. "I don’t know why," the letter finished, "but I needed to tell someone." And suddenly, she understood.