Gemotions

He’d been sorting through his father’s belongings, a task he'd been avoiding for months. David stumbled upon a small, wooden box tucked away in the back of a closet. Inside, nestled amongst old photographs and trinkets, was a letter. The handwriting was his own, familiar and yet distant. He recognized the date; he’d been nineteen, a college student, wrestling with uncertainty.

His breath hitched. He settled into the worn armchair, the paper trembling slightly in his hands. He read the words written for his childhood sweetheart, a girl he thought he would marry. He felt an intense surge of energy; his toes were tapping, and he had to clench his fists to keep from bouncing.

“Wow,” he murmured, a wide smile splitting his face. The memories, the hopes, the youthful optimism – it all came rushing back. He couldn't stop smiling. He was almost giddy.