My Bad

Oh, man.  So I wonder if there's a sort of agency that's in charge of bestowing the "world's best" title - you know the one I'm talking about.  Everyone's seen a restaurant claiming the "world's best" hamburger or chilli cheese fries at some point in his or her life.  Well if anyone knows of this agency, tell me, will you?  Because I'm definitely a contender for the world's best saboteur of relationships.  My own, that is.

So there's a man in my life.  At least there was, until he left for the summer with every intention of returning this fall.  He's sweet and sexy, intelligent and kind, thoughtful and *gasp!*!  An excellent communicator!  Wellll...except for one little thing.  We never exactly cleared up what we were (or what we weren't) after only 2 months of dating before he left.  I wanted to, sure, but it felt awkward.  No girl wants to be the "sooo, exactly what ARE we?" girl.  That's one of those conversations that either comes up naturally or not at all - and, if the latter, well then you've got your answer, don't you?  So that's the attitude I've maintained this whole time.  Innocent until proven guilty, nothing more than casual dating or perhaps even friends with benefits.  Jesus, I wasn't going to assume exclusivity, because we all know how well THAT'S worked out in the past...

And one more thing - screw you, Marine Corps.  If it hadn't been for 5 years of in-my-face reality checks on the dirty behavior of men away from their ladies, I may have well continued to live in ignorant bliss that men are, for the most part, faithful.  The truth of the matter is that they simply are not.  No matter how educated, how mature or responsible these guys were - there was always, ALWAYS, a while-the-cats-away mentality.  A few of them went as far as cheating, but I'm pretty sure that was (at least somewhat) an issue of availability more than ethics.  Guys will be guys will be guys.  Especially when you're away from home, in a small mixed-gender group, and the days drag on.  Out of sight, out of mind?  Um - yes, that certainly seems to be the case with the Y chromosome.  So consequently I don't expect this man to put the brakes on anything that may go down out there because he has a pseudo-girlfriend of a whopping eights weeks back at home.

So why should I feel guilty?  I can hit on a guy if the stars align and I have both the opportunity and desire, right?  I can go out to dinner.  I'm not even saying anything physical, because that's not how I roll, but theoretically I could, yes?  Even if this person was, say, someone he knew.  Hypothetically here, people.  Ugh...then why do I feel like such a dirtbag?