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Four of us went to a comedy show last night. I forgot how much I like to laugh. We all had things to feel sad about, or scared about, anxious about, or angry about. Between us we have lived a lot of hurt. Four friends who have survived. Who keep stretching out their fingertips, hoping this time they won’t be severed, sliced, burned or broken. History tells that love is like a toddler’s toy, something to be gifted, and then we watch as it’s battered and broken and thrown aside. But we all still love, and God, we can still laugh.

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