27 hit and I was sad and bored, restless and panicked, and also really, really horny. I have been mauling TL. At least once a day, no matter the time or schedule, I've been making it happen. It's amazing what a difference a couple extra days of sex made. We have both been happier and sweeter to each other.

Late Friday night he's drunk and starts talking about politics. I told him I didn't want to talk about it. He wouldn't accept that and kept talking, kept asking for my opinion while also insulting an opinion I had not yet provided. Repeat about 5X.

I said, "I am sick of this. You trap me. Why are you trying to start a fight with me?" He insisted he wasn't trying to start a fight with me, he just can't believe that I could possibly think X, Y, and Z. I said, "I AM SICK OF IT. You ask me my opinion, but you don't want it. You don't want to have a conversation. You just want to tell me I'm wrong. You want to start a fight with me. You are so black and white that you're incapable of having an intelligent conversation. You are insulting and I am sick of it."

He felt he did not do anything wrong and insisted that does not trap me in political conversations. He said he was just trying to have a discussion, and that I was overreacting.

I thought the conversation was coming to an end, and he started repeating everything he had already said, wondering how I could possibly think whatever thing he decided I must think. I said, "Stop talking." Repeat about 5X.

He said he would do better than that because he was sleeping on the couch. On the way out the bedroom door he says, "I think it's time we just break up. We're too different. It's something I've been thinking about a lot." And I said, "Okay."

He slept in the living room the entire night. Came back in around 6 once the sun was up. When we woke up in the morning we both kind of tested the waters and then acted like it never happened. We were laying around cuddling with the dog, faces close. I asked him if he wanted to break up. He said no. I told him to be honest. He said, "I don't want to break up. I love you. I just wish we agreed on more things."

The rest of the weekend was wonderful. We went out with my family on Saturday. We had our friends over to drink and set off fireworks on Sunday. We had more great sex.

I don't know what I wish anymore. I used to want an easy out so I wouldn't have to say, "I'm breaking up with you and am not 100% sure why, but can we still be best friends?"

But as time goes on and breaking up feels more like a tangible landmark that we are moving toward instead of some abstract idea of what might happen, someday, I find myself already grieving. I love him and he is my favorite person. I have never been more sure that we will break up, and also simultaneously feel that our relationship has never been better. I don't know what to do with these feelings.