Sometimes I listen for the differences, despite being told to keep my ear out for the similarities.  I pick the pieces of others’ stories that don’t fit, and use them to convince myself that I’m not like that.  But, as I have been told, I’m not “special and different”.  Well- I am special and different- but only as far as we all are, in our own ways.  We all have idiosyncrasies, we’ve all taken different routes, and our paths diverge from each other’s, even if parts of our journeys are similar.  But wherever we’ve come from, we have all ended up in the same place.  The “gift of desperation” has brought us on bruised and bloodied knees to the same conclusion.  From here on in, our paths will be similar as we take steps towards a different way of life.


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