Dear E. Jean,
Every year at this time — and I’m a total wreck throughout the holidays! — I start wondering about my old boyfriend, the love of my life. We were extremely happy together, though “happy” doesn’t begin to describe the mind-bending 10 months we spent together. He moved to California to get his doctorate at Stanford, we could never get the long-distance thing to work, and our romance ended abruptly. I have never known why, exactly.
Need I tell you, E. Jean, the breakup came at Christmas? And that we ended it on the phone? I have had other boyfriends since, of course. They were smart, talented, charming men, but nobody makes my heart beat like my old love. (I’ve also turned down two very eligible marriage proposals and my mother is ready to kill me!)
Here’s my question: Every year my old love calls to wish me a merry Christmas. My agony of joy and horror starts in around Thanksgiving, and now it’s approaching its usual fever pitch. I’m a basket case!
I can’t take this! I’ve put my whole life on hold for six years! Do I ignore his call this year and finally move on? Can I endure one more stilted conversation with the man I still love and no doubt always will love till I die? — Sitting by the Phone
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Miss Sitting, My Sugar Plum —
Forget the phone. Phones are for amateurs. Pack your bags, get on a damn plane, and go see him. The best way to get over a man is to remove the mystery. (When the mystery goes, love goes with it.) Wear something killer, meet him for cocktails, and ask him why he “abruptly” ended your affair. You will be half-way out of love with him by the end of the conversation.
Of course, you may walk into the gin joint after all these years . . . your eyes will lock . . . and your will crash into each other’s arms like felled trees. Either way, get on that plane!