Yeah, yeah, I know I said last week’s column was going to be the final Breakup Diaries post, but then something amazing happened and I couldn’t resist an update. Last week I wrote about how, despite having made significant strides in recovering and moving on from my breakup, my ex still was haunting me in my dreams. On almost a nightly basis I was finding myself dreaming about him, begging him for answers—clearly, the thing holding me back from completely moving on was just questions about what got us there in the first place. The unfortunate thing about those dreams was knowing that I may NEVER get the answers I was seeking. I could only hope the dreams would go away sooner rather than later. Which brings me to last night…

This is going to be my last Breakup Diaries column, I think. I feel like I’ve reached an end to the deep mourning process that is a breakup and with 2009 being a new year, I’m ready for a fresh start. While my mind feels ready for that, and my body too (thanks $527 make out!), my dream life apparently hasn’t gotten the memo. Since the breakup occurred, I’ve dreamed about my ex, in some way, at least every other night. And it’s starting to piss me off.

To make a long story short, my breakup is officially official. It became sort of official a few months ago when I decided to call it a breakup rather than a “break” or a “separation,” but it didn’t become officially official until my ex told me, a week ago, that he was no longer in love with me. Until that point, I was definitely holding out hope for a potential reconciliation—after all, the “break” was supposed to be time for him to explore and deal with his issues—but when someone tells you that they don’t love you anymore, well, whether you believe them or not, and whether you think they need serious help, you kind of just need to accept it and move on. So I did. And it cost me $527. But it was worth it.

When the s**t hit the fan with the ex, I immediately called three people—two close girl friends and my mom. For a long time, they were the only people I told and certainly the only people I leaned on for support. And they were amazing, in so many ways. But as more people in my life started to find out, I was utterly stupified by how hugely compassionate and kind all of them were, but especially my male friends. (Yes, including the three that have driven me to go on a six-month sex sabbatical..)

My breakup is…hold on, checking the calendar…almost three-months-old. Which means my hoo-ha has about three months worth of dust gathering inside it. About, oh, three weeks ago, I reached the point in the breakup evolution where I felt a sudden aching urge to have sex. With someone. Anyone even, after a few glasses of wine. But apparently, my dusty vag also has a layer of penis repellent, because my attempts at getting laid have been thwarted not once, not twice, but three times. Not to toot my own horn, seriously, but I’m mildly attractive so it’s kind of bewildered me that getting some sweet action is so difficult.

I am almost—oh hell, really—ready for my first post-heartbreaking split rebound. Some are surprised I’ve ever waited this long, but, frankly, I’m nervous about even kissing someone new, let alone, um, other stuff. Vaguely excited though too—I was, after all, going to go the rest of my life only being with the same person (which was fine by me!) but there is something oh so thrilling about the unknown. That said, unless you have a heart made of pure steel, the rebound requires much caution—the last thing you want is to A) end up falling in love so soon again, B) have someone fall in love with you, or C) cause further life drama. After the jump, five of the safest—but still exciting!—rebound types…

There are many post breakup stages that a person can feel—anger, sadness, resentment, hatred, insecurity, just to name a few.  However, at some point, one of your bolder friends will make that typical fast fix suggestion that “the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”  Do I agree with this? Ehh. For some, a rebound only makes the split hurt more. I would suggest starting with a little flirting, maybe some kissing, and take it from there. But one thing I do believe in is “The Grace Period.”

I’ve come to the conclusion that the absolute worst part of going through a breakup is that one of the common reactions is insane distrust—distrust of yourself, the person you were with, and of the relationship’s meaning. This is something I’ve been struggling with throughout my break/breakup/“separation” from my fiance, which has officially gone on for seven weeks exactly. Unfortunately, I may be aware that I’m filled with doubt, but I haven’t quite figured out how to stop doing it. After the jump, about 10,000 questions totally plaguing me.

This weekend, Anne Hathaway hosted “Saturday Night Live”. Her opening monologue was the funniest of the season, so far, as she poked fun at her breakup with Italian lothario/scammer Raffaello Follieri . The appearance not only made me like Hathaway more—she’s not the little priss from “The Princess Diaries” after all!—but it also made me think about the notion of laughter being the best medicine during a breakup.