I have been alive for a while now, yet I am often surprised at how little I've learned, beyond-shoe tying. Patience eludes me. I wish I knew how to sit with doubt for more than ten minutes without picking up the phone for answers, or making up my own. I don't want to work. I don't want to have to clean up after myself.

I have fucked up, because I can't sit with doubt and wait for understanding to come at it's own, painfully slow pace. After awaking at 6am in a panic which no number of Bali Shag's would quell, I called. I waited for the return, feeling fatal. I needed a conclusion, I considered the only instant conclusion that I could come up with - just end it. Pull the plug and away goes ambiguity. My pain will be great, but the kind of obvious pain I can cry out until I get sleepy and eventually move on.

The giant obvious problem with this plan is that I don't want to leave him. I want to end the emotional windstorm, but I don't want to break this one great connection I've found. Because I still crave him when he's not around, because when I was suffering in India, I wanted his hand on my back.

But I went over, to have a talk, not to break up, but to have a break-up talk, and see what happened. This was not a conscious plan, but an impulse, a deeply perverted impulse. It was a disaster. I said every negative thing I could come up with, as he listened in semi-horror. And as my sadness and doubt bled all over the floor, I realized that all I wanted was to pull him close. So why was I daring myself to break up with him? Daring him to break up with me?

I tried to push him off a cliff, to see if he would struggle or let himself fall. It was all a harrowing test. But I didn't know it until the moment he passed the test, and wave of shame crashed over me. What am I doing? Where did this come from? I don't want to do this!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Words felt down to my core, but after all the words I just spewed, they feel impotent.

The fucked-up-edness only continues as I scramble to excuse everything I just said and did. But the mess is on the floor, and this isn't the first time I've done it.

I hope I have not broken anything that can't come back together. He tells me not to worry, and I will do my best not to worry.

I will not do this again. I must sit with doubt and ring chimes and repeat mantras until I feel ok again. I will not abuse my emergency contact. I will not hand him my problems to fix. I must be stronger, because love is heavy and fear is always right behind it. I will work as hard as I can and I will walk away with victory.