Reliving the Nightmare

I spent a good portion of last night and much of the morning and afternoon with two of my greatest friends in the city, who, after seven years together, have decided to separate.
Early this morning, I went with them to the apartment that is only "hers" now, when it used to be "theirs."

As he attempted to quietly exit with the last few boxes of his things, I began to cry. I felt selfish and guilty for shedding tears over someone else's unhappiness, because if anyone deserves those tears, it's the people who are having to live this nightmare first hand.
But I couldn't stop. I cried for them, I cried for other friends that are going through similar situations, and I cried for myself - because it was not so long ago that I was quietly moving out the last few boxes of my things, and moving on to an unfamiliar place.

Separately these friends have both confided in me and told me they want nothing more but to be back with the other. Time, each says, heals all wounds.

I just wish it was that easy.