So. I guess my experiment worked.
I spent so much time trying to understand what was happening to me, I lost sight of the real problem. The real problem wasn't that I couldn't understand it, or how absurd it was, or even how much I missed her. The real problem was that it was killing me. Slowly but ever so surely, I was dying from the pain and the torment and the confusion. Once I finally stopped trying to figure it out, once I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I was able to do what needed to be done. I fought it. I fought myself to get my own life back, and I won.
What am I supposed to do now? Why, nothing I guess. Just muddle through. See what happens.
This will take some getting used to, but I've got time now. I've got my whole life ahead of me.