Gemotions

The brittle paper felt foreign in my hands. The letter, penned long ago, was addressed to a lover who had broken my heart. I had written it filled with desperate hope that we might reconcile. The words, filled with raw emotion, were now a source of deep, abiding revulsion.

I felt a tremor of pure, unadulterated contempt. I remembered the foolishness with which I’d poured my heart onto the page, exposing my vulnerability to a man who had not deserved it. I ripped the letter in half. Then into quarters.