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A reader writes: Seven years ago I fell in love with a wonderful man I met at work. Although we never dated, we spent many wonderful hours together talking about everything and nothing. We spent a year getting to know each other, and I fell more in love every day. After I was transferred to another department, I was sure we would spend a wonderful summer getting to know each other in a more romantic atmosphere. That never happened. He didn't return my calls or emails, and never spoke to me again. I was heartbroken and never understood why he dumped my like that. Since then I have married a wonderful man, who has been a great stepfather to my children and a wonderful husband. He loves me and supports me in all I do.
Last month I found out that my co-worker "love" of seven years ago had died in a one-car accident earlier this year. I feel like I'm going crazy!
For months after he disappeared, I had wondered "why" and "what if," but I thought I was all over that by now. It's been seven years, I made a life without him, and I never even thought about him. Well, not very much. But now, I can't seem to get over him. I find myself fantasizing about what would have happened if we'd been together, dreaming about him, and wanting him again. I emailed his best friend and asked about his grave, so I could say goodbye. I was told that his gravesite is not to be published, that his wishes were that nobody knows where he is. He had no funeral, no obituary, and has no marker. This makes me even crazier. I now have fantasies that he survived the accident but doesn't want anyone to know. Like he faked his own death.
For months after he disappeared, I had wondered "why" and "what if," but I thought I was all over that by now. It's been seven years, I made a life without him, and I never even thought about him. Well, not very much. But now, I can't seem to get over him. I find myself fantasizing about what would have happened if we'd been together, dreaming about him, and wanting him again. I emailed his best friend and asked about his grave, so I could say goodbye. I was told that his gravesite is not to be published, that his wishes were that nobody knows where he is. He had no funeral, no obituary, and has no marker. This makes me even crazier. I now have fantasies that he survived the accident but doesn't want anyone to know. Like he faked his own death.
I went to our old office building two days ago to say goodbye. I sat in the parking lot, cried, yelled at him, called him names, screamed at him for dumping me, and got even madder that he died in a single car accident. How could he be so stupid! Was he drinking? Did he fall asleep? I will never know, and I'm furious! Why do I feel like this? He wasn't important in my life. We never even dated, it was just a flirtation several years ago. But now I feel like I lost a spouse or a lover, and I didn't! I feel so selfish because I have a family to take care of and a husband who loves me, and I have no right to live in the past. The needs of the living must be met, but I have trouble dragging myself through the normal daily routine. I feel like I have no right to grieve, or even to be writing to you. Still, somehow I feel that writing about him helps. I just need to find out how to let him go and go on with my real life. Can you please help me understand? What is happening to me?
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