I moved to a new country to be with my husband, who I loved so much. I've arrived only to find I am lonely, isolated, friendless, sad, empty all the time. My new life has as much intimacy in it as a handful of dust. How can a person be so unhappy and still be alive? I keep hoping my broken heart will kill me, but it has become apparent that if it's going to happen, I'll have to do it myself.