We sit across from one another, and I tell her I am blue and low and bruised, and she looks me right in the eye and says, Meg, we all have those moments. We all live through stretches of time in which we think we’re not doing so well. And as I listen to her I suddenly feel a distance between us that is unbridgeable. I am aware that we are using similar words to describe two very different experiences. That’s not what this is, I want to say. We’re not talking about the same thing. But instead I sip my coffee and smile and nod because, much as we don’t always want them to be, some battles are
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