You're right. There is no length. Years ago when I was 18, I was introduced to a young man we'll just call Joe. Joe was 19. We hit it off right away, and our friends (my girlfriend, his brother who introduced us) were beyond happy. He was my first love which included my first sexual experience too.
One day as I prepared to leave his place he shared with his aunt, he said, while he was in the shower that I need to hurry and get ready before his aunt got back. Being stupid I made a stupid remark to the effect that there's nothing she can do anyway, etc. He proceeded to come out the shower and bang...slap me across my face.
I was stunned to put it lightly, and immediately saw my mother when she was being abused. I sat down, waited until he was dressed, then put on my coat. He immediately said "let me help you with your coat." But I didn't want him too for by that time the stunning wore off, I felt pure anger.
As I approached the staircase I turned around and said "Joe, we're through." And I left. Oh yes, he kept calling, for hours, but I wouldn't talk to him convinced I had done the right thing.
Well, here I am, 52 years later feeling that I did not indeed make the right decision. Yes, I am saying that though he was wrong so was I in disrespecting his Aunt. Yes I am saying that all those years before I/we should have talked about it, mostly me since I was the one who said goodbye. I should told him how that slap affected me, not only physically but mainly emotionally and mentally. All of that should have been done before I left his place, or at least on the phone since his Aunt was dued home soon.
But I've never forgotten him. Oh I've met others, had my children but there was always that nagging feeling that I've missed out on something wonderful.
Well one day, last week (?) I couldn't take it any longer and so found him on Facebook. Of course he's older now, graying, etc, but I recognized him, and all the wonderful memories (minus the slap) came flooding back, and of course the tears seemed like they had a life of their own. I even felt some jealousy because he has grown children now which meant he gave his love to someone else.
Yes, I still care about him, still love him. I don't know what to do. I wrote him a letter (found the address on one of those search engines), yet I honestly doubt if he'll read them once he sees it's from me. You see, when I turned 19, and had my party I asked his brother about him. His brother said "you killed my brother" meaning of course that I hurt Joe sooooo much. I was devasted yet couldn't go anywhere since it was my party. Anyway, since y'all see I can go on and on just let me end this and say...
NO. There is no time table for breakup mourning. I know.