This is terribly selfish of me. I joined this forum to ask this question. But know that I did it because... I don't know what to do anymore.
About a year ago, I embarked upon the only really meaningful relationship I've ever been in my entire life. Everything paled in comparison. I am selfish, as you can tell, and it was the first time that I wanted to set everything aside in order to be with a person. It was the very first time I've ever really craved being with someone. As ridiculous and cliche as it sounds, it was like I'd never been in a real relationship before that one.
Part of the reason that this person and I bonded so quickly, and so deeply, was because we shared a tumultuous past in regards to anxiety and depression. When he told me he suffered from Major Depressive Disorder, he made it sound like he was confessing something unclean. He was surprised and relieved, possibly even glad, when I replied with my own history of MDD. People transcend their bodies. Fact. So I've got some chemistry issues... I have learned to manage this, and I'm glad to be there for those who are learning to do this same.
And so we fell in love.
Nearly half a year ago, he told me that he no longer felt secure in his day to day life, and was checking into a sort of facility for people with certain mental and physical difficulties. I was... supportive. I understood. I do still understand. I think it miraculous that I've avoided hospitals and the ilk thus far. But we had less than 24 hours to say goodbye. He told me that he'd be able to check his cell phone for voicemails every so often, but beyond that, he would be completely out of touch for a couple of months. I told him how I felt. I told him that I loved him, that he was the most amazing person I've ever met, and that I hoped he found what he was looking for. He's still the only person I've ever said such things to. It wasn't an easy thing to admit. And now it almost feels like I'm paying a price.
It's been nearly six months, and I've heard almost nothing from him. He left me one voicemail after the first month, just telling me that he hoped I was doing well, that he was still institutionalized... I responded with my own message, but there's been nothing since then. Nothing at all.
Over time, I came to the realization that I no longer can even be sure that he's alive.
Most days I'm okay. But sometimes I think about him, and how much I still love him, and how he could be dead and I don't even know that much.
I'm sure it's selfish. It would be better if I could somehow convince myself to no longer care whether or not he's still alive. But not knowing, being in this state, is turning me into a weepy, shuddering wreck.
Please read this post, and please lend me some worldly advice. Where do I go from here?