If anyone ever had a reason not to get back with an ex, I did. He was the quintessential on-and-off Bad Boyfriend and not only were all my friends painfully aware of this fact, when he dumped me on the same day my father died (think Jessica and Tony birthday sitch x 10), then again after a similar life tragedy, it had finally become clear to me as well. I moved on fast. Literally days after he’d hit me with yet another, “I can’t do this anymore,” I somehow managed to enter into a relationship with a man who was easygoing and ridiculously sweet, so I hardly had time to mourn. I wouldn’t normally recommend rebounding as a heartbreak cure-all, but in this case it definitely helped remind me that the ex was Not. For. Me. My work was exciting, glamorous and rewarding. I was in my early-to-mid 20s. I had amazing friends. I lived in New York. Things were kind of perfect. I was so much happier without my ex.
That’s when he began to stalk me. Keep reading »