CORVALLIS, OR—Given that she is not at her sister's, aunt's or best friend Erika's, was not at her desk any of the 12 times he phoned her at the office, and does not normally go grocery shopping until the weekend—not to mention the fact that she didn't come to the door either time he rang the doorbell and hid in the bushes, even though her bedroom light was on—area resident Kristin Mulcahy is probably sleeping with that guy at this very moment, local ex-boyfriend Andrew Wallace obsessed Monday.

Andrew Wallace tries not to think about that other guy running his tongue over those thighs.

"I can just picture it," the profusely sweating Wallace told reporters. "His hands moving slowly over her soft, yielding breasts, gently stroking her into a state of breathless, ecstatic abandon, right there in the very bedroom where she first told me she loved me back in January 1998."

Sources say Mulcahy, an Oregon State University comparative-literature graduate student and part-time library assistant, hasn't even spoken to Wallace since refusing to let him come in "even just for one minute" two Thursdays ago, fueling panicked speculation on the part of the heartbroken Wallace that Mulcahy was not, as she repeatedly insisted, alone, but was instead with "him," that guy with the sideburns with whom Wallace saw her at that art exhibit last month, and who probably owns the 1998 Isuzu Trooper that keeps showing up parked near Mulcahy's apartment at all hours of the night.

"I poured my heart out to her, standing there in the rain on her front porch for 20 minutes, and now she won't even acknowledge that I exist," said Wallace, pausing briefly to stub out a cigarette in an overflowing ashtray nearby. "He was probably waiting right there in the other room the whole time, hearing every word of my desperate plea. Afterwards, once she'd slammed the door in my wet face, they probably laughed together about all the deeply personal things I was revealing about my innermost emotional needs."

"I think his name is, like, Chris or Craig or Greg or something," Wallace said. "That smug, self-satisfied, woman-stealing, car-phone-talking, Third Eye Blind-CD-on-his-dashboard-leaving, sweater-vest-over-the-passenger-side-carseat-draping bastard!"

Mulcahy, whom Wallace has alternately described as "the most beautiful, intelligent, caring and special person I have ever met" and "a deeply selfish, spoiled brat who doesn't even care enough to answer the phone when someone who was once supposedly so important to her is sobbing on her answering machine, begging for just one more chance to show her that, together, they could make it work," has reportedly recovered well in the six weeks since her breakup with Wallace.

"Kristin was a little upset about it at first," best friend Erika Duncan said. "But that's only to be expected. After all, she wasted more than a year and a half of her life on that simpering jerk what's-his-name. But she bounced back in no time, and I think she's made great strides in regaining her self-esteem. She's dating again and, from what I understand, her sex life is better than ever."

"This new guy?" Duncan added. "Let's just say this: T-I-G-E-R, if you catch my drift."

Wallace's efforts to achieve similar closure, however, have been hampered by the fact that whenever he shuts his eyes, images of his former beloved, screaming in pleasure as wave after wave of orgasmic ecstasy rocks her supple, nude body, dance mockingly across his inner eyelids.

"I just know the son of a bitch is hung like a bear, too," Wallace said. "So I'm not the most well-endowed guy in the world, I admit it. Is that some kind of crime?"

According to sources close to Wallace, over the past six weeks he has had trouble sleeping, lost his appetite and suffered a drop in productivity at work. He has also frequently burst into tears at seemingly random moments, such as during TV commercials Wallace said "remind me of the times we shared." In addition, he has created a shrine out of various mundane objects acquired during his time with Mulcahy, such as parking-garage stubs, grocery-store receipts and fast-food containers, keeping them as treasured mementos of his former partner.

"Everyone tells me I have to 'accept it' and 'move on,'" said Wallace, locked in his bathroom in a fetal position with the lights off. "But how can I be expected to carry on as normal when at this very moment, less than 30 blocks from here, some stranger is putting his hands all over the only woman I've ever found true love with, driving her into a state of transcendent sexual bliss with his relentless pounding and pounding and thrusting and squirting and pounding, making her shiver and quake with sweet release? Huh? How am I supposed to just 'forget it' with all of that pounding going on, right now, at this very moment?"

Whether or not Mulcahy is actually sleeping with "him" at this very moment has not been confirmed.