My most recently played list on Kathleen Turner Overdrive today includes Matthew Sweet’s “Someone to Pull the Trigger” and the girl-sung version of Elvis Costello’s “God Give Me Strength.” Eel’s “I’m Going to Stop Pretending that I Didn’t Break Your Heart” is there, along with the Mats’ “Nobody” and Dolorean’s “To Destruction.”

My sent e-mail and chat client is filled with OH MY GOD!s and I just want to punch hims.

I came home tonight, put on my fuzzy flannel pajammies and my most comforting red-hooded sweatshirt, and dialed up some Dawson’s Creek on the DVR.

This, my friends, is empathy.

Today, my friend Kelly had a romantic relationship end with an audible snap. From what I can tell, she’s taking it much better than I am.

As soon as I got her e-mail, I was right back to every bad break-up I’ve ever had. My fingers automatically sought out “Someone to Pull the Trigger,” and my heart hurt for her. I was hearing that one say “I went to New Hampshire with my girlfriend.” And the other one say, “I just found someone else.” And the one after that saying, “I still love her.” And the one way before all of them telling me, “This is my girlfriend Jill.”

While today I was not that girl hearing those words, Kelly was. I know with every healed over crack in my heart what she’s going through, and that does not make her pain go away. There’s nothing I can do to make it better, which is the frustrating thing with love and heart aches.

She is, of course, handling the whole ordeal with the kind of grace and aplomb I will never possess. Really, despite what she might say, it’s admirable.

The strength of my reaction has taken me by surprise. I have liked Kelly since I met her, and I am honored to call her my friend. But I didn’t realize how very much I cared about her until today, when she was in pain. I’m only roused to violence when someone I love has been hurt. And despite her grace and strength, I really want to punch that fucker in the neck for hurting her.