yesterday.

yesterday, as i was crossing the 10th avenue bridge in the pouring rain on my way home from work, i listened to my friend tell me how the previous night's dream of an ex had left him completely derailed the whole day.

"why?" he asked me. "i was doing so well."

it's a feeling i know all too well.... a feeling that anyone who's dealt with the pain of a breakup knows all too well, has dealt with all too often.

you're moving along, moving ahead, and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere....

you're sitting outside at a cafe, slipping a glass of red wine, and someone passes by, leaving the faint scent of his cologne. all of a sudden, happy hour has turned melancholy. you discover a water bottle in your refrigerator, hiding behind all the leftovers you should've cleared out months ago, that was his. getting ready for a fun friday night out turns into crying yourself to sleep at 9pm.

as time passes by, these moments are fewer and further in between, and the pain lessens.... but does it ever really go away?

as i was crossing that bridge, i listened to my friend and offered my thoughts in the most compassionate way i knew how. while i wished he didn't have to go through this, deep down, i was grateful i only had to deal with the rain on the outside.

but later, as i was settled into my couch and under a blanket, watching a scary movie and listening to the rain pour down outside, i felt it. that familiar pang. the pang that translates from man to woman, from new york to minneapolis, from generation to generation.

the pang that made me wish that, just for a moment, he was there. holding my hand, listening to the rain, putting his arm around me when i jumped at a scary scene, laughing at how easily i spooked.

it's the pang that reminds me that while sometimes someone may no longer be a physical part of my life, they'll always be in my heart.... no matter how much i fight it.

and, as far as i've come, as many bridges as i've crossed– i have yet to learn how to make that pang go away forever.