broken heart surgery

"My heart is broken," a friend told me recently. And told me. And told me.
And she wasn't the only one. There are other broken hearts around here, too. And I've had one myself.
But this I know as confidante:
You can't see a broken heart.
You can't feel a broken heart.
You can't do anything for a broken heart.
And usually, you can't see what the other person saw in the person who broke her heart, either.
You have to pretend.
And maybe swear to never again make anyone else your confidante.
Oops, there's the phone. "Claudia's Counseling Service. Hello."
Why I can't stop: She's on the couch right now, smoking.