Gemotions

He slowly opened the box, the lid creaking open with a sound like a sigh. The contents spilled out, a jumbled mess of memories and forgotten years. He found his name, scribbled in his childish handwriting. His mother, a collector of small moments, had preserved them all.

He scanned the papers, his throat tightening. He had pushed her away, thinking he was too old for her, too cool for her brand of love. Now, he wished he had let her closer. The ache in his chest was a constant reminder of all the unsaid words, of all the chances lost. The silence of the room was heavy.