The World of Relationships and Dating

I did everything right: I took his number out of my phone. I removed him as my friend on Facebook. I even started dating someone else, hoping it might help move me forward. But this was one breakup that time wasn't healing.

I had it bad for this guy from the beginning. My stomach dropped in anticipation every time I saw his name in my e-mail inbox. My day wasn't complete without receiving a text message from him. And I lay awake at night obsessively fantasizing about our future. He appeared to be equally interested in me — calling me all the time; buying me thoughtful gifts; and giving me spontaneous, genuine compliments. Yet after six months, he wouldn't solidify our relationship. "I just don't want a girlfriend," he shrugged.

We went our separate ways, but my grief grew more intense by the day. I was increasingly ruminating — replaying steamy moments over and over again, to the point where I could actually conjure up his scent — and rehearsing what I would say if I ran into him. My desire to get over him and the fear of appearing crazy gave me the self-discipline to stay away, but after eight months apart, it was clear my feelings weren't budging, so I gave myself permission to send him a friendly e-mail. He wrote back and told me he was engaged.

The news made me sick — literally. I woke up every morning dry-heaving, and with stabbing chest pains that struck with no warning. I couldn't eat or work, and my heart pounded with frightening regularity. Sleep wasn't an option, and the few times I achieved it, I dreamed of him.