Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. The package sat on the coffee table, a stark white rectangle against the dark wood. He knew he should have taken it to the post office days ago, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The address label read "For Emily Carter."

He remembered her, a whirlwind of laughter and bright colors. They'd shared a few brief conversations in the hallway, pleasant enough, but nothing significant. Now, he was hoarding a piece of her past.

He thought of the boxes he’d never unpacked from his move. The memories he was so afraid to deal with. He wished he could go back and rewrite things, but life didn't work that way, and now she's gone. He was stuck here with what could have been and what could never be.