Gemotions

He hadn't been back to his childhood home in years. The house, now empty, felt hollow and echoing. He was there to sort through his mother's belongings. He unearthed a box, and in the box, a letter to him.

The letter was a detailed apology for her perceived failings as a mother. He'd never seen her express such vulnerability. His mother, who was known for her strength, had written a letter filled with uncertainty. He was struck by the raw honesty.

He sat on the floor, the words blurring before his eyes. The weight of his own misdeeds, his own impatience, pressed down on him. The letter seemed to amplify the silence, the space now between them both in the world and outside of it. He felt the sharp stab of regret for the love he had failed to return.