If I want to be honest with myself and with everyone I know, and I do, then I have to admit that this situation with *ean is just about to blow up in my face.
Why?
Well, honestly:
I missed *ean last weekend when I didn't see him.
I missed him all this week when I didn't see him.
I wondered what he was doing and who he was with, plagued by jealousy - that green-headed monster that, even now, is making me act in ways I wouldn't otherwise.
If this *nna person is completely made up and just a ploy to get me to admit that I do have some feelings other then "this is kinda fun" towards *ean, then he's a genius, because I've been feeling the burn - the burn familiar to all girls who've been scorned in boyland adventures when they were too giving, too freely, too soon. And if it's not a ploy, it might as well be, because I'm going crazy.
Now all that remains is the historical question of what came first, the chicken or the egg? Did I have feelings for *ean pre-*nna, and the *nna debacle just brought them out OR did I magically develop "feelings" post-*nna because people always want what they can't have?
Either way, honestly, a tiny part of me wants to tell him that I want him all to myself, selfish as it is, and knowing full-well that that'll never do because that's not what he wants or needs at this point. So I could be honest to that little bit of me, tell him, and face the consequence of never seeing him again because he doesn't want a girlfriend, OR I can just pretend like I wanted to dump him all along, break up with him, save some face, and move on with my life. And honestly, that's what the big bit of me wants to do.
To learn from my mistakes, I kind of feel like I have to tell him the truth and face the consequences and feel like a dolt for a while. Feeling like a dolt has the most sobering effect on me. But right now I don't think I want to learn from my mistakes. Mainly, I just want to get out of this with the smallest amount of bruising possible - maximizing time spent with *ean, minimizing the trauma - and enjoy the rest of my relatively painless summer.
So I somehow have to make this out to be his fault even though, to recap, honestly, I messed up. I saw it coming like a mack truck, I still let myself get attached, I told him to get out there, and got mad when he did. It's all my fault. Beginning, middle, and end of it. But honestly, I'd rather not admit that to him, if y'all don't mind.
I think being honest with myself and with all of you is honest enough.