Celia Walden 27 May 2016 • 7:00am at The Telegraph

As I hand over a Kleenex to stem the fresh tide of Kirstie’s tears, two clear but conflicting thoughts lodge themselves in my brain. The first is: ‘I would do anything in the world right now to make you feel better.’ And the second: ‘Please God let you be so distracted, so wild with grief, that you didn’t register what I just said.’ Too late.

Even as she’s pulling the curtains of her hair a little closer around her face (the most efficient camouflage for every Female Crying in Public) I see a lip curl forming.

‘“Free up some headspace?”’ she says, dry-eyed all of a sudden and scrutinising my face closely, as though trying to locate something – anything – there that might loosely resemble the girl she grew up with. ‘What’s with all the therapising?’… read more here