Look away from The Married Guy. He is either faithful, in which case you should concentrate your energy on trying not to hate his wife for her obscene good fortune, or cheating, in which case you should concentrate your energy on hoping he falls down and breaks his ankle, at a minimum.
The Party Girl still hits the old haunts, but now it’s mostly to reminisce with her bartender friends about old crazy antics instead of to create new mayhem. She used to sleep with the band guy back in the day, and now when she runs into him on the street she is stunned by how old and tired he looks; all gin blossoms and jowl.
Moving on is like this: one day you forget the taste. The next, you forget the smell. Then the touch. Then the laugh. Then the smile. Then the jokes. Then the eyes, the hair, the hands, the feet. You forget the socks. You forget the fingers, the toes, the sex.
You’re beautiful because you take risks. You substituted “who cares” for “what if” and stopped talking into your beer about how you were going to do it and actually did it.
If you really like the person you’re hooking up with and would really like them to be your boyfriend/ girlfriend, find a way to tell them, and hope for the best. If you don’t and wouldn’t, stop.