Before you start blaming your partner for your relationship problems, ask yourself: Have you ever driven past his/her house or shown up unannounced? Do you talk about him/her to anyone who will listen, and make every conversation about them (“Pasta? James’s family is from Italy…”) Have you ever cracked your partner’s phone, email, Twitter or Facebook passwords and virtually stalked them?
I’d never heard the phrase “addicted to love” uttered outside a Robert Palmer video or bad poetry until a few years ago, when a bad breakup drove me temporarily insane. After endless cocktail hours listening to me cry and obsess over what went wrong in my seven-month relationship, my girlfriend gently suggested that I get professional help. I asked if this was like the Sex and the City episode where Carrie’s friends cut her off. She told me that our friends were feeling more like the passengers in Airplane!, who hung and stabbed themselves rather than be subjected to yet another sob story about the guy’s ex-love. The next day I was in therapy being diagnosed as a love addict.