There is no feeling of helplessness quite like the one you feel when your best friend is hurting.

The phone rings; you answer. He is on the other line, close to tears. You feel your heart drop at the sound of their unhappiness, and you promise to be there as soon as you can. You run around the house, grabbing your keys, your license, wishing that teleportation was an option. You sprint to your car, jump in, turn the key in the ignition, and hastily pull out of the driveway.

The whole way there, your hands are shaking. Your breathing is uneven. Every red light seems to take an hour to change to green. The whole world seems to be speeding past while you’re stuck in slow motion. You can hear his voice in your head.

“I really need you here.”

Your foot presses down a little harder on the gas, your hands tighten on the steering wheel as you maneuver the car through the twists and turns of the back road you take to his house.

You pull into his driveway and park, not bothering to make it neat. You slam the car door behind you as you get out, and you run into the house. Upstairs, downstairs, down the hall…It doesn’t matter where his bedroom is; it seems to take forever to get to him.

You find him sitting on his bed, knees pulled into his chest, head resting against the wall. Exhaustion and sorrow and pain are in the eyes that look up at you. He looks like a totally different person. You sit down slowly, knowing that nothing you can say or do will make them feel any better. No matter how many times it has happened or will happen, break-ups hurt.

You slide next to him, resting against the wall.

“You okay?”

You cringe as the words come out of your mouth; you already know the answer. He gives a half-hearted shrug, but he might as well be shouting at you.

“No.”

You think of all the clichés about heartbreak: Everything happens for a reason. There are plenty of fish in the sea. But let’s be honest, those stupid sayings hardly ever bring comfort to the person who needs it.

He tells you about what happened. She came over, broke up with him, and left. She didn’t stick around, didn’t act upset, didn’t give him a straight reason as to why, barely even said good-bye. You feel something close to rage rising in your chest when you think about the person who hurt him. But you just sit there and listen, quiet and angry and still racking your brain for something to say to him. You both know that it won’t hurt like this forever. But while the feeling is there, it is overpowering.

You talk about other things for a while. You manage to make him laugh or smile a few times, but his eyes are still sad. He rests his head on your shoulder, thanks you for coming.

“Of course,” you say to him. “That’s what friends are for.”

Both of you sit in silence for a while. Not being able to do anything slowly becomes more and more overwhelming.

When you leave, he gives you a hug.

“Thanks, again. You’re the best friend I could ask for.”

You squeeze him a little tighter than you normally do. He’s broken, and you want nothing more than to pull him back together again.

“You’re welcome,” you say, even though you feel like you have done nothing to make it better, to make the pain any less awful.

And even though you know that he will eventually be okay, you wish that there was some way to make that day come faster for him.

Now, give it a few days. You talk to him on the phone and notice that he's starting to sound better. You go to check on him and he smiles and laughs a little more each day, and you know that his heart is healing.

But until that moment, you just feel helpless.