Gemotions

He was cleaning out his attic when he found it: a box filled with forgotten memories. Amongst the forgotten items was a letter, years old, written by his childhood sweetheart. He remembered the pain he'd caused. He'd been cruel, abruptly ending their relationship with a callous note. He'd never given her a reason.

He slowly pulled the letter from its envelope, the paper fragile with age. She detailed her lasting pain, her questions, her confusion. He sat there, stunned. He had dismissed her feelings back then. Now, her words felt like a physical blow.

His throat constricted. He walked downstairs and opened the kitchen window, staring at the world outside, seeing only her face, his young face, and the ghost of the boy he used to be. The sun felt unusually bright, blinding him with its cruel clarity.