I've been involved with a man for the last three years who lives in the basement of a house that we rent together. We are in a relationship, although we've never made it public. We spend a lot of time together, have lunch, grocery shop, raise my son (from a previous marriage), talk to each other constantly and enjoy a very active sexual relationship. But whenever things are going well, he starts a fight with me, says vicious things and then stays out all night with another woman. We don't speak to each other for a while, then make up and start the whole process again and end up sleeping together. I just don't know what to do. I know that I love him, but he says he doesn't feel that way about me. I keep hoping that he'll come to his senses. Writing this letter, I realize I am stupid. How can I have feelings for a man who treats me this way? How can I fix this if we both can't afford to move? Please tell me what I should do to get the sanity back in my life?

It irritates me when someone writes to you expressing fear of never finding a partner, and you advise them to be patient and eventually Someone will appear. I find this conjuring act wholly inadequate. Why not tell them, "Don't worry. Having a significant other is not the pinnacle of existence. There are other wonderful things in the world. Such as learning to live alone. Such as laughing just simply from the joy of being alive. Life with a partner is entertaining, but life without can be even more so." I have friends who've been simply devoured by loneliness and made bad choices trying to escape it. I myself am alone and feel peaceful about it.

Exactly one year ago, I was suddenly afflicted with a terrible physical disorder, and overnight my life became a series of hospital tests and humiliating and painful therapies. I had five failed surgeries. A few dear friends, my elderly parents and faith in God helped me maintain my sanity through all this, but my job, my colleagues and my "old life" disappeared.

In March, bereft of hope, I had one "last resort" operation, which completely corrected my disorder. On recovery, I began a daily fitness regimen that has helped me to regain my former strength. As of this writing, I am fully returned to health once more.

This summer I will be 45. Here I stand physically whole, but with my life, in many ways, in ashes around my feet. The company that employed me has closed. Many of my old friends are gone. Much of the way I looked at the world and at myself seems gone. I feel like a newborn baby or the Pegasus: naked, spiritually charged, full of questions, on some kind of threshold. Any advice?

I have a friend who is intelligent, educated and good company. He does plenty of favors for people. But when it comes to paying the check, he never does; or he plops down less than his fair share. When he comes to visit he never brings beer, though he drinks plenty. I haven't confronted him about his cheap behavior, not wanting to lose his friendship (where I come from, being cheap is a pretty humiliating thing to be accused of), but another former mutual friend has cut him off as a "user," and it is awkward to let the machine pick up calls while one or the other is here, and to have to remember not to mention the scorner to the scorned, to spare his feelings. Any suggestions?

For the last two years, I've had indecisionitis and can't, for the life of me, decide whether to dump my deadbeat boyfriend, whether to pursue grad school or a career. Last night I spent an hour obsessing at Office Depot over black file cabinets vs. beige. Writing to you has been the only definitive thing I've done in a long time. Why is this happening to me?

What do you do when loneliness becomes all-consuming? I'm a (relatively) good-looking and intelligent 26-year-old, but I find myself in a long dry spell when women turn away, ignore my phone calls and make excuses. I blame this cold, northern city, but I still think about it every minute of every day. How do you learn to ignore the missing pieces?