Addiction

Three days ago, my best friend and her boyfriend of two and a half years ago broke up. She told me she's "learned her lesson the hard way", since she left her friends and life in Saskatoon for Regina. And as I listen to her grieve, I can't help but make connections - we've all been there at some point or another. However, the more I think about it, the more I realize that she's going through withdrawal, revealing all the symptoms of an addict. An addict experiences "adaptive changes in the brain that lead to tolerance, physical dependance, uncontrollable craving, and all too often relapsing" (http://www.medterms.com/). In my own experience, it's scary to acknowledge the fact that I've also experienced every single aspect of that definition. I remember, before ever experiencing a serious relationship, pointing the finger at others who foolishly tolerated rude and disrespectful behavior, and then, at times, becoming a hypocrit to my own criticisms. The physical dependance and uncontrollable cravings surface at lonely and insecure moments. My friend explained her withdrawal as a physical feeling. She said she actually feels a sickness in her stomache when she really misses him or experiences a memory trigger. Another friend said she mourned her relationship like she would the death of a loved one. And many of my close friends have had relapses after breaking up - not just the weaker personalities, but strong willed people.
However, I'm not inferring that everyone in a relationship is an addict. Like any substance that can be abused, moderation and balance are key. This means maintaining your own identity and having a life outside your significant other. Yet, balance is sometimes abstract to me. People always say you have to find a balance without ever really stating what that balance is or what it means. Is balance even ever really possible or is it something that we can only continue to strive for?