Gemotions

The cramped apartment felt stifling to Maya. She was packing to move, discarding memories piece by piece. She had been avoiding the attic. In it, she had found an old box. Inside, a letter penned to her best friend from high school. She recognized her own handwriting, but the emotions it conveyed felt alien.

She skimmed the page, a wave of nausea washing over her. It was full of petty grievances, of criticisms masked as concern, of a possessiveness she now found embarrassing. The language was harsh, the tone accusatory. She had been so *wrong*.

Maya ripped the letter into tiny pieces, letting the fragments fall onto the dusty floor. The silence in the apartment was broken only by the rapid beat of her heart.