Q: Where Did You Go For the Holiday? A: To Crazy Town—No I Didn’t Take Photos

So Sam and I broke up on Christmas Eve. This may be surprising to anyone who saw us over the holiday parties but for 14 hours Sam and I were done. Like over and possibly forever.

It wasn’t my intention to break up but over the course of two days I realized that I wasn’t sure of my feelings. And because I couldn’t figure out my own mind, every time Sam said “I love you” I felt like a huge poser, a fake and asshole for not being sure.

I guess where it started to boiled over was during Christmas Eve Day when we joined Patty for “Sex and the City”. As we watched the entire start of Steve and Miranda relationship I suddenly realized I wasn’t sure if Sam and I were truly compatible. I tried to figure out where my head was at with Patty but I just couldn’t string my thoughts together.

The thing is in some ways we are two very different people; he is always sure of himself while I have to work my way through things. We’re both passionate but by very different means about key parts of our personalities. He’s loud and decisive in a way that I’m usually not.

See, I fail a lot. I have to fail and hurt myself and learn and slowly grow through experiences in a way that Sam doesn’t seem to need to. And what I pictured in my head the night of Christmas Eve was two very different people eventually reaching a serious impasse and not being able to survive it; not even as friends. And so I started to realize that maybe I should break up with him to have our friendship instead of losing him if the romantic relationship continued.

My head was racing that night as we came back to the apartment and I realized I needed to take a walk and work things out. And when he said “Okay, go for your walk--I love you” I responded with “thank you”. I don’t remember this but when I returned Sam was in the dark and upset. And so we fought and I tried to figure out where my head was but I couldn’t and so we broke up and he left. Angry.

And I spent most of the night on my floor, torn up and sick to my stomach, edge of tears and just so confused. And this was because when Sam asked me if I loved him and I couldn’t answer. It took me a night of restlessness to realize what the answer was and what I was concerned about.

Because the question for me was never “did I love him?” but whether he could love me even when I failed him, made mistakes or did something stupid. Because I do that all the time and I wasn’t sure that if I somehow crossed some line with him or did something unintentional that he wouldn’t just walk. I needed to know if he could try and love me in spite of all my faults and mistakes. Because I couldn’t give my heart if he wasn’t capable of it.

So I called him on Christmas and asked him to come over and he let me just spill everything out. And Sam listened and understood and told me that it would be okay. He explained how all he wanted me was for me to at least give him the chance and that if we were both honest then we could work through pretty much anything. And I needed to hear that. Because I do love him—as crazy and fast as it all seems. He’s me if only a bit louder and more sure. And I have to put faith in the idea that that is enough.

I beginning to think it might just be.