Gemotions

The worn paper felt soft beneath Daniel's fingers. It was tucked inside the pages of Maria’s worn diary, the pages filled with her familiar looping script. “Learn to paint,” it read, followed by a list of museums she wanted to visit. His throat tightened.

He’d always been the artistic one, the dreamer. He realized, with a jolt, that he had unintentionally eclipsed her desires, her creative spirit. He saw her, always putting his needs first, always supportive, and he felt a sharp pang of guilt.

He carefully closed the diary, a tear sliding down his cheek. He would start looking for art classes. He would make this happen, for her.