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In the morning when I arrived at my bank job, I would call him right away. to 6 p.m., and our conversations were a welcome respite from my monotonous routine.

I'm not looking for a relationship; I was just trying to have some e-mail fun.""E-mail fun? But his e-mail felt emotionally honest, and despite his obvious issues, I liked him. Within weeks, we were talking every day; that quickly developed into an obsessive six to eight hours a day.

These people will have dates on a regular basis, and they may or may not be having sexual relations.

This period of courtship is sometimes seen as a precursor to engagement or marriage.

You’re left wondering what went wrong and analyzing (and reanalyzing and reanalyzing) things with your friends. While we’ll never be able to fully understand guys (and we probably wouldn’t want to), you can learn from these moments.

We found 10 women in your situation and asked experts to give their insights on what happened so you can dodge future dating disasters.

After a few dates with a guy, you feel like this could lead to something, when suddenly he falls off the face of the earth.

While the term has several meanings, the most frequent usage refers to two or more people exploring whether they are romantically or sexually compatible by participating in dates with the other.

This guy had already managed to hurt me, in the space of just two weeks. We spoke for hours about everything, from our damaged childhoods to jobs to exes to first kisses.

Then he'd found me—a woman he might want to have a real relationship with. "Please," he begged, "give me another chance." I hesitated. I'd planned to merely dip my toe in the water, but instead, I cannonballed right in.

I remember the first e-mail I received from Jamie; it wasn't exactly poetic. Looking back, it's hard to believe what that simple line would lead to. At the time, I was nearing 30 and working as a secretary at a big investment bank in New York City—not exactly the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. So I checked out his profile immediately, but wrote him off just as fast—he lived in the Midwest and, more importantly, hadn't posted a photo. He persisted and e-mailed a few snapshots, along with a note. But it was at night that our talks really picked up steam. Paul's reaction mirrored that of my friends, sisters, and parents, so I clammed up. I was working in a dead-end job, watching my friends get married one by one, and kissing my 20s good-bye, having apparently missed the "Saturn Return," that astrologically significant period that occurs between the ages of 28 and 30 and is supposed to be marked by accomplishment, power, and prestige.

Turns out he was reasonably cute, and really funny. This went on for a couple of weeks until I said, "So, do you want to come to New York for a date? I canceled evening plans more than once just so I could go home, change into my pajamas, and curl up in bed with the phone. At some point, I again broached the subject of meeting with Jamie.