Secondhand Heartbreak

Several days ago, my best friend called and told me that he and his long-time girlfriend had split up.

He called early in the morning. He never calls early in the morning.

Especially not sounding like he's going to cry.

He never cries.

Not when his Dad died.

Not when some other girl he really liked turned him down.

Not when he was kicked out of school or couldn't take exams.

He hasn't cried since he was really little. Years and years and years ago.

But now he calls me and all he wants to do is cry.

He said he wanted to cry.

He said he was going to cry.

He said he felt like he was dying.

He said he wanted to die.

That's a lot to handle as a wake-up call and no fore-warning.

I should've known. When I saw him that weekend.

... I should've known.

But there's nothing I could've done. I just waited and talked to him and tried to calm him down, but it was scary.

Almost, but not so much as when I witnessed a friends psychotic breakdown. That was terrifying.

But this... I couldn't do anything about this. I couldn't hold him, or stay with him to make sure he'd be alright.

I was helpless against his raging emotions.

Not against, he wasn't upset with me, but I couldn't help him feel better.

And knowing how much this was affecting him...

just hurt

more than I thought I could feel about a situation where I really didn't belong.