Gemotions

The cramped attic room felt stuffy. I, Claire, was sorting through old boxes when I came across it. My girlfriend, Amy's, handwriting stared back at me. A perfectly neat, slightly childish script filled the pages of the notebook.

“See a Broadway show.” She always said she didn't like musicals. “Learn to code.” I had offered to teach her. "Become a famous actress." She was so shy.

My breath hitched. Each item was a puzzle piece that didn't fit the picture she presented to the world, and to me. The weight in my chest was immense. She had built a wall. I just hadn't noticed.

I stared at the list, the paper starting to tear in my tightening grip.