Once a relationship is over, for whatever reason, how do you rise from the ashes? In a song in heavy rotation right now, Sheryl Crow sings, "The first cut is the deepest...". Unfortunately, I haven't found that to be the case and I'm wishing it were – if it were true, surely break ups would be getting easier for me.

This morning I was driving to work after a particularly good session with my physical therapist (talk about feelin' the burn). I was singing along with the Planet, truly enthralled with the snow-covered vistas of the South Farms along St. Mary's. And WHAM! There he was, coming over the rise toward me in his son's car. And just 25 hours after he'd noticed the request I'd left on my site to please stop visiting these writings. Wow. Timing that amazing just seems like it's got to be Job's G*d burning down your house.

It's been 527 days since it was over – not like I'm counting or anything – and I still had to sit at the next stop sign until the sobbing subsided. Geez, enough boils already!

Iffy asked yesterday how I was going to come up with enough "depressing love stories" to complete my countdown. I told him I wasn't trying to make them depressing, but the real answer is, it's been disturbingly easy.

Countdown:   F O U R . . .