A few times a year you hit a week or two when it just feels like breakup season. You get calls from across the country, weeping, late at night. Usually chirpy coworkers dragging themselves in, forgetting stuff and ducking out to the bathroom a lot.
You feel for them, comfort them. Talk them through their first solitary meals in months. Distract them while they’re getting dressed in the morning. Buy them ice cream.
And all the while a little piece at the bottom of your heart is saying “And everyone was worried about me missing out on that?”