Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed into the living room, but the warmth did nothing to penetrate the chill that had settled over me. I stood by the overflowing bookcase where my mother had stored my school work. I was overwhelmed.

I pulled out a thick composition book, its cover worn and faded. It contained my high school diary. The entries were a raw, unfiltered glimpse into my teenage angst. The thoughts I’d tried to bury. My cheeks felt hot.

Each sentence sent a jolt of discomfort through me. Memories, long dormant, resurfaced. I wanted to retreat, to hide. I felt a tightening in my chest.

I placed the book back on the shelf, my hands trembling. I turned and walked toward the kitchen. I needed a glass of water, something to calm my racing heart.