You can't stop thinking of her: this is how you explained it, a proof of your being in love.

When I tried to talk about Terri to people who did not know her, it never went well. I would talk about her laughter and how her smile lit up a room. I talked about the joy she found in everyday things -giggling with delight at a Ranger Rick lunch box she found at a Salvation army store-that kind of thing. I would show them pictures of the two of us on road trips-two half awake people at rest stops and Arby's and cheap hotels. "You look happy," is all they would say.

I wanted them to see more than that. I wanted them to see how we fit together and how our time together was so incredible that I can remember every little detail. Every day, every meal, every grocery store trip (Look, Magic shell!! Have you ever poured that over ice cubes and licked them off??).

I have photos and stories and small souvenirs. But I have no real evidence that her existence, albiet brief, made my life better and convinced me that everyone's life can be more than day to day-it can be moment to moment. And more than wonderful.

You were a vision of devotion, couldn't ask for more. You thought of nothing else, almost to your detriment. She was your world, she was your life. Until she wasn't.

Now it's all about Someday and maybe again and what might have been. Next time you'll be stronger, better. You look forward to the time when you will be able to meet her needs better, show her that you're the one.

You can't stop thinking about her, and you think this justifies this. "True love has a bit of obsession mixed in, that's the way it is." You ask me how I got over her, when you have no intention of doing so. You whine and wait and wonder if she'll come back.

She never came back to me, and I never expected her to. Don't waste your life away chasing after the past. Live.