Further investigation from November 2, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I was recently dumped by the one who I thought of as perfect. We had fun, talked easily, felt comfortable with each other and had great chemistry to boot. Suddenly he starts making “I’m not ready for a committment” noises and he takes up with someone else. I think I’ve done a fairly good job of moving on. It took four weeks and a 10 pound weight loss, but I think I’m getting better. But tell me, how does one deal with the urge to stalk? I found out as much about HER as I could. (She’s a player with a less than sterling reputation.) I go by her house to see if he’s there. (He always is.) It hurts me to know that he’s with her and not me. Why do I keep doing this to myself?

— Aching

Dear Aching,

I really hope that you didn’t lose 10 pounds by jogging by her house. Some of what you call “stalking” (which is actually a serious word that we should try not to throw around) — or at least the urge — is natural and understandable. What’s she got that I ain’t? You want the 411. But when the 411 is too much information, why do you keep dialing? Good question. Why, in fact, do we keep doing anything that smarts? Maybe, in this case, because being dumped makes you feel like such a helpless, passive victim that torturing yourself is a weird twisted therapy — “Hey,” you think, “at least I have a say in being hurt this time.”

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Coming home on June 22, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I dated this guy for a year and a half, and for months he has not been speaking to me, I finally blew him off in a letter (no other way when I’m at school, he’s never home, and of course won’t call me back), saying that I never wanted to hear from him again, not that I ever thought I would. Well, someone had to cut the cord.

All well and good, right? Well, it’s summer, and I’m dreading coming home (I’m going to summer school here partly to avoid him — but I’ll be home half the summer anyway) because I know I’ll run into him (we live in one of those towns where you run into everyone eventually). My mother just told me that she’d run into him a few days ago (he looked embarrassed — he should).

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Entering derogatory purgatory on May 25, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

My boyfriend of six intense months blew up at me the other night and called me every derogatory name in the book. While it wasn’t intended as a breakup, I knew that being spoken to in that way was the end, so when he finished his tirade I said only, “Perhaps you should take me home.” We both remained silent for the twenty minutes of the ride to my house. It seemed to be an unspoken breakup, and in fact I haven’t heard from him since. I thought that in light of his juvenile hysterics, I was taking the high road by simply leaving him in silence, never to speak to him again, but now I have an overwhelming urge to tell him what I really think of him. And on a side note, I’ve discovered I left my watch at his place — I’m leaning toward writing it off, but my friends think I should get it back. Please advise: am I allowed to mail him a hate letter, or does that falsely indicate that I care?

— Allie

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Cinco de Lame-o falls on April 27, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

A while ago, I was dumped, the same old excuse (“I’d just rather be friends”). Well, I’m still heartbroken, and the crappy thing is that while I’m mourning at home, he’s in Mexico having the time of his life. But back to the subject. I feel like if I go out with someone now, he will be mad at me, and he means a lot to me. What do you think I should do? I don’t want to be hated, but I don’t want to be single.

— Karen

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I wasn’t going to say anything. I just wasn’t. ‘Cause, well, you know that thing about not having anything nice — that. Fortunately, the supercool Lizzie Skurnick has stepped in where I clammed up, offering this astute, not-even-not-nice takedown of one man’s ode to the one who got away. Not that odes are never in order, and his is nothing if not heartfelt. But, well — oh, just hurry up and get to the awesome.

An eternal question from December 16, 1997…

Dear Breakup Girl,
I recently moved out of my boyfriend’s apartment after ending our four year relationship. I’ve met someone else in the past month and I like him, but don’t need any type of commitment from him; we haven’t discussed it at all.
Do I have to resign myself to the fact that he is “trans-man” (transition man)? Or could it be real?
— Dazed & Confused

Dear Dazed,
The Center for Science in the Public Interest recently reported that so-called “trans-fats” (often found in margarine) are more likely than certain other fats to contribute to clogging of the arteries. Similarly, “trans-men” have also been linked to heart problems, not to mention clogging of the brain.

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