The Second Time My Dad Died

A eulogy for the both of us

Photo by Richard Gale on Unsplash

All day, my stomach did somersaults. I couldn’t even go for a jog because my intestines would not allow it. A familiar, creeping, unnamed anxiety washed over me, and as usual, I tried to drown out its empty voice with wine later that night.

There is always a reason why our bodies protest our own existence like this.