Defining Love

Love Being Loved

To my relief the only thing strange about the next day was that Edi had gotten up to leave for practice earlier than I had expected her to. Before I'd woken. I shrugged away the worrisome thoughts that already she'd begun to avoid me. When she got home late that night, I'd been even more alarmed when I could tell she'd been crying.

In all the years I'd known Edi, I'd never seen her cry.

It terrified me. But she explained she'd just had a hard day at practice and the coach had been especially tough on the team, coming down extra hard on her toward the end and it got to her. While I was furious with her coach, I was beyond relieved to hear it had nothing to do with our talk the night before.

As the weeks passed, my concern about our relationship went up and down. She was spending a whole lot of time around her teammate friends. A lot more time with Astrid and less with me. It spiked my paranoia. But when she was around me, it didn't feel awkward or strange, so I told myself that was a good thing. Then, finally, when the team took the state championship, she actually invited me to go out with her and her friends to celebrate.

I took it as progress. This was the first time I'd been invited into her world, and I suddenly knew why she'd never brought me around before. She and Astrid were undeniably closer than what I had feared. I felt invisible the whole night. I tried to be cool, but by the time we got back to our apartment, I felt ready to explode.

“So, is she your best friend now?"

Edi, who'd been on her way into the kitchen, stopped in her tracks and turned to me. “What?"

“I can see why you never invited me to these gatherings before. With Astrid around, why would you need me there?" My lips quivered, and I felt like the pathetic weak ass bestie I never wanted to be, the side of me I'd never wanted her to see because I knew the moment she did she'd leave me too, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. “Am I being replaced?"

Edi stared at me for a moment without saying anything, and then, to my utter surprise, she rolled her eyes and kept walking to the fridge. “Replace you? Don't I wish."

My heart sunk, and the knot in my throat gave way. “You want to replace me?" I asked, my voice going high pitched. Edi spun around from the fridge when she heard my broken words. “Why?" I asked as she rushed to me.

As soon as she reached me, she took my face in her hands and spoke close to my face. “Because I need to."

I shook my head, not understanding. This was my worst nightmare. “Why?"

“Because you're straight and—"

“So what!" I retorted loudly, the fear and anger strangling me at the same time. “Why does that matter?"

“Because I'm in love you, Henri," she said, stunning me silent. “I always have been. I wish to God I could replace you and move on. But, so far, I haven't been able to. No one even comes close."

I stared at her, breathing hard. A part of me was enormously relieved and another even more scared now. “Kiss me," I whispered without thinking, staring at her lips.

“No," she said immediately, but she didn't move away or take her hands off my face.

She took a few steps forward, and I took them backwards until she had me up against the wall, but she didn't kiss me. “Why?" I asked.

“Because I can't, Henri. As much as I want to"—she took a deep breath closing her eyes—“I shouldn't."

“I want you to. I love you too."

“Don't say that." She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter.

“But I do," I insisted.

“It's different, Henri," she said, opening her eyes. “You love me the way best friends are supposed to love each other. Not like I love you."

My face crumbled. “I don't want to be replaced."

She kissed my forehead then my cheeks and around my tearful eyes. I lifted my chin, and she kissed my lips softly. My crying ceased immediately, and I stared at her. She did it again this time longer and slipped her tongue in my mouth. After one very long, very emotional kiss, she stopped and hugged me. “I don't want to replace my best friend, Henri, but these feelings I have for you need to stop."

“Why?" I asked again, even though I knew the answer.

I felt so terrified about what she was admitting. All these past weeks it wasn't my imagination or what I'd dismissed as my usual paranoia. She really was pulling away. I wasn't gay but reasoned that being with Edi, even if it was beyond just best friends, couldn't be a bad thing.

She pulled away and held my face in her hands, looking deep in my eyes. “Because the worst thing a lesbian can do is get involved with a straight girl, especially her straight best friend who she's been in love with for years. I'm just setting myself up for heartache."

“I'd never hurt you," I said quickly.

“I know you wouldn't—not intentionally," she whispered, kissing the corner of my lips softly. “But you have to be true to yourself. You may love me, Henri like you have since high school, but just because I tell you I'm gay, it doesn't make you gay, too."

“I like when you kiss me," I offered in desperation.

“It's not enough, babe," she said, shaking her head. “It's like those drunk girls at the parties. Just 'cause it's fun to try something different—experiment—it doesn't make them gay." She smiled in that sweet beautiful way I'd always been in awe of. “No one will ever replace you, sweetie. But I have to stop kissing you," she said even as she touched my face and her lips grazed mine softly. “I have to," her whisper was strained.

My insides were a mess. I knew it was unfair because what she'd said was true. This wasn't me. As much as I loved Edi and as much as the thought of making out with her right there on the sofa with both of us completely sober and of sound mind turned me on, she'd just confessed to being in love with me. Somehow I knew I could easily fall in love with her. I questioned if I wasn't already. That girl crush I'd had on her for so long could've manifested into more over time.

I knew I should think it through—be rational—but at the moment, I gave into the fear of losing her. Gay or not, I'd always been attracted to her. She was by far still the most beautiful girl I'd ever met and albeit the only girl I'd ever been attracted to. I decided I did love her.

“I'd never consider you an experiment, Edi," I whispered, touching her face.

She stared in my eyes and then buried her face in my neck as we fell back onto the sofa together. Lifting her face so she could look at me again, she wore an almost pained expression. “You have no idea how tempting it is to give into years of longing," she lowered her voice. “Years of wondering what it would be like to be with you like that."

My breathing accelerated just thinking about it, and I pulled her to me and kissed her. She kissed me long and tenderly, so unlike how we'd kissed at the party or even the night she'd pleasured me. She kept stopping to just stare at me. So far she hadn't touched me anywhere else, but I was loving it. Loving how she looked at me so deeply with such adoring eyes. No one had ever admired me that way before—no one.

I loved feeling loved.