When we spoke recently, I was very depressed, and Mary asked what would help, and I said I didn’t want to say, but then decided I did. “People always offer to buy you a beer or something and I don’t want that. Can I be honest with you? Is that okay?” and she said it was. “I really just want someone to come over and brush my hair, or let me cry in their lap while they pet my head and tell me I’ll be okay.” And I cried harder because I felt so ashamed to want that from a friend, from someone who was not a romantic partner or a parent, because I didn’t have either right now, but I still wanted
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