Finding myself in the throes of quarantine a month after my father’s death was an incredibly convenient excuse for me to not see anyone. I was in so much emotional pain I couldn’t bear to see anyone happy. I couldn’t bear to see my friends not buried in my pain too. How could I hurt so badly and have it not affect the people around me to the point that they too could no longer function? How were they able to smile when my father was dead? How were they able to shower when my father was dead? How were they able to live their lives like nothing was different when my father was dead?