Gemotions

David felt a strange detachment, as if watching a movie about someone else. The diary entries, his teenage angst, scrolling across the screen, felt distant and unreal. Yet, the sting of each revealed secret, each youthful vulnerability, was sharp and undeniable.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He’d thought those words were gone, buried under the weight of time, forgotten. He felt as if he were being judged by a panel of strangers.

He closed the browser window, then immediately opened it again. He couldn't look away, even though each sentence caused an internal flinch. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the mental fog, and breathed deeply.

He went to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and sat back at the computer, the cold glass clammy in his hands. He knew he should walk away, but he was trapped, the digital words his prison.