I had saved his picture to my desktop, where I could summon it with a single click whenever I wanted. I knew I shouldn't do this, that I should try my best to forget him, but I had tried and failed too many times. My pride was gone, it had surrendered to my addiction to him. Every day after work I would rush home to stare at his picture for hours, trying to make sense of what happened. I'd console myself that being in love with his photograph was better than being in love with him. At least the picture was there for me, it was mine. But the man himself never belonged to me.

I can't call up Megan to cry to her. She's my best friend but she's on his side. Can you imagine that? Everybody thinks it's my own fault. Because I'm the one who dumped Ajay. Yes, I yelled at him about something stupid and trivial and told him I never wanted to see him again. He moved on too quickly, too happily. I should have been satisfied – isn't that what I wanted? But instead of feeling satisfied I felt insecure and worthless.

(TO BE CONTINUED...)