But in a quieter, more private way, the expression seems perfectly pitched to describe the largely hidden grief of ageing.
Not the sharp grief that follows a bereavement (though bereavements do accumulate with the years), but a more elusive emotion. One that is, perhaps, closest to the bone-gnawing sorrow of homesickness.
Sarah Manguso evokes this sense of having travelled further from our younger selves than we could ever have imagined:
Sometimes I feel a twinge, a memory of youthful promise, and wonder how I got here, of all the…