Who is the Bad Guy?

Maybe I trust my gut too much.

My sometimes flabby, food-loving gut says there is more to the story than "I like him, he doesn't like me as more than friends." My gut says this guy has faults (just as I do, like being a sore loser sometimes, as I found out today) but that he deserves every ounce of love I give him. My mind, so capable of leading me astray, and my heart, so capable of leading me into desperate territory, have their doubts. But my gut? My gut knows this is complicated. My gut makes me feel terrible when I am spiteful, mad for no reason, wishing I could inflict pain into him for not making his mind up.

Today I was mean. We were playing aqua hoops and I just got in a bad mood. I can be a very, very sore loser. And I was losing hardcore. He tickled me, and I elbowed him as hard as I could. "Geeze, okay I'll back off." Sometimes, especially on my period, I have this anger that comes from the part of me I ignore generally. I am not a lover of being mad or mean. He didn't talk to me, and knew I was mad. About 30 minutes later, after everyone else got mad at the game and couldn't agree on whose score it was, I tried to make it better. I told him how angry I was, for seemingly no reason. It was one of those things I didn't need to waste my emotions on. He said he could tell, and he's been really angry lately too (at this, I totally scoffed - oh no, you have two girls that obviously like you and would do anything for you, wah wah I feel so terribly empathetic for you. NOT) My mood didn't really improve all that much, even though I was trying. But I was being civil and pleasant.

We walked out of the gym, and he told me to hug him. "I love you."

I didn't say it back.

Maybe my terrible, awful brain is making me do things to test him. My heart is big, and it says I should never let go of someone who loves me even when I'm mean. I got really upset the other night, thinking he is just playing me, that I'm a fool in the court. That would be too easy, wouldn't it? A bad guy makes the story make sense. A bad guy makes me the logical victim of the tragedy. A bad guy is easy to blame.

He's not the bad guy. I'm not the bad girl. He is a guy who tries to help everyone, be everyone's mentor; he's easy going and tries so hard to do the right thing (even if it ends up so, so wrong.) He's the type of guy who will continue to see the good things about someone, even if they've hurt him. He's confused, but even in his confusion he will love me unconditionally.

I'm the type of girl who texts him later, "I'm sorry I didn't say it, I love you too."