I'm happy to hear how you have come to be "at peace," for lack of a better term.

While I was going through treatment, I was given attached sheets of paper (continuous stationary/form paper, to be specific) to write out a timeline of what took place. Of course, everything is so vivid in my mind, so I was as detailed as I could be. I was told that my obsession was being treated like an addiction. Teenage me didn't get it, but adult me gets it.

That summer, I got a cellphone for my birthday. I remember calling her everyday after 9p. At the time, I was happy she was taking five minutes out of her busy schedule to talk to me on a daily basis. Now, I laugh knowing that had she liked me, we would have been on the phone (or together in person) for a long time regardless of sleep and other scheduled events in our lives.

I vaguely remember what she looks like. I do remember how deeply I felt for her.