My boyfriend and I are fighting right now. Of course, in this modern, technological day, we are going back and forth over emails, Google chat and texts – not actually talking to each other.

Last night at 3 a.m., my resolve dissolved. I needed to talk to him! I texted him, but he was already asleep. I paced my room, not knowing what to do with myself. The agony of missing him and wondering about how he felt for me was excruciating. I felt like the only thing that would ease it was sleeping pills, several shots of something strong or going for a 2-mile sprint.

So this morning, I checked my phone. Nothing. I checked my email. Nothing. I initiated a video chat. Nothing. After 10 minutes of nothing, of waiting for some response from out there in the ether, I was about to succumb to my craziness.

Then it dawned on me: how in the world did people managed in the days before the internet and telephone? I imagine Elizabeth Bennet, pacing her room for days...weeks...going on walks through the countryside, the questions unanswered, the worries eating away at her soul...as she waits for a return letter from Mr. Darcy.

(The BBC version is by far the best. Watch it all on YouTube.)

And I thought, maybe I’m being a little bit of a baby.