We might not have been friends for long, or we may have met in elementary school. Maybe we get lunch every week, or we go to schools across the country from one another. You may have been in the relationship for years, or maybe it was relatively new. Regardless, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that your heart was broken, that you feel like you've lost all your trust in people, and that you feel used. I wish I could fix all of this. All I can do, though, is be here while you cry, while you yell, and when you're eventually angry.
We all know the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and, finally, acceptance. I have to admit, I'm only going to be good at helping you through the anger stage. Lord knows I'll try to be comforting while you cry, but my true calling is in snarky comments about your ex. In the wise words of Chandler Bing, "I'm not great at the advice. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"
Regardless, if you call me at 2 am, I will come running with a pack of Oreos and cheap wine, ready to curl up and watch "Titanic" to your heart's content. And after the movie is over and you're wondering what went wrong, I will remind you that you're worth it, you're beautiful, and you will always have me to give you Oreos and snarky comments.
I remember your nerves before the first date, your excited phone call to tell me all about it, and how we analyzed every single thing he ever said to you. You thought you were perfect together, and now that it's over, you can't believe that that wasn't true. But I'm here to tell you that you're a wonderful and complete person on your own, and when you eventually decide to dive back into the dating pool, I'll be here to listen to you talk about the butterflies in your stomach again.