Dear dad,
So far it has been hell...running. Who knew two years withdrawal could leave you this rusty? All jokes aside, I almost gave up dad. What was the point of pushing myself to run a couple of miles every evening when my biggest cheerleader is rotting six feet under? But slowly it's gotten better since this week started. I'm catching my breath better and I'm less sore. Now running is slowly starting to feel as therapeutic as it used to. The rush is there somewhere. And after every run I feel lighter and better. I feel...happier. Even if it's just for a part of my day, I'm at peace. And the world does not feel as cruel as it used to.
YOU ARE READING
We Shall Heal
Short StorySadness doesn't suit a pretty face like yours. Tell me. What does? Happiness.
