She had a friend that she had known at the run-down dinner theatre she had worked at with Ryan who lived near the "Joseph" production. His name was Josh. Josh lived with his parents in a farmhouse and he offered Heather the houses guest bedroom to stay in during the week while she rehearsed for the play.
While this meant that she would not have to commute 100 miles everyday, it also meant that we would be spending less time with each other.
There was no official or even unofficial romance between the two of us, but there was something. No interaction between us could be considered flirting. We had never shared any awkward moment with the urge to kiss in the air. There was a looming ghost of a romantic future that haunted our daily lives together that was never seen or heard but merely sensed through subconscious intuition.
I began to realize how much I truly cared for her. I knew that she had given me no indication that she would be ready to pursue romance any time soon and so I continued to try to contain my feelings and keep them to myself until the time seemed right.
Because we had grown so accustomed to speaking with one another every day, we often spoke on the phone, just to talk. After about a month, the phone no longer held the same satisfaction, so Heather asked if I would come visit her for a night.
We returned immediately to our routine of watching TV and smoking cigarettes as we had done for so much of our close friendship up until that point. When nighttime came, Heather asked if I wanted to stay the night.
She quickly followed up the offer with the strict condition of no physical affection. I wouldn't be getting any that night. I must admit that I was disappointed, but I had been controlling my attraction to her for a few months at this point and the opportunity to simply share a sleeping space still seemed like a step in the right direction.
As we got in bed together for the first time that evening, I made a truly innocent request, "Can we spoon? It's not a sexual thing. I just really like the creature comfort of snuggling."
She said that it should be ok, as long as I wasn't planning on, "trying anything."
As soon as I cozied up next to her, with her back held softly against my chest, we realized something immediately. We fit together perfectly. We weren't just two spoons stacked atop each other in a drawer, we were two spoons molded by the same smith to be equal parts of one set. I draped my arm over her and asked if it was ok. She said that it was.
We slept the whole night through in that exact position. Neither of us stirred. Neither of us even moved. My arm was still wrapped around her as I woke up. I hadn't slept that well in months.
By the end of the summer, as her play reached the point of opening weekend, my crush on Heather had grown and intensified to a point that was making me think about her a lot.
I went with Kyle to see her play after it had run for a week. I wanted to give the cast a change to work any kinks out before I went to see it. I was nervous, because as a recovering actor myself I have a tendency to be overly critical of theatrical productions.
Heather had told me what her costume looked like in the show before I ever saw it on stage. For lack of better description, it was essentially a gold sequin bikini. It was sexy. When she appeared on stage my head became full of purely sexual thoughts about the woman who had been one of my best friends for the better part of six months. I realized in that moment that my sexual attraction to her was far more intense than I had been aware.
It was a different outfit, her "after-the-show" outfit that really ended up changing my world.
I waited with Kyle as well as her parents in the parking lot after the show. I was trying to explain to Kyle how much more I felt attracted to Heather after seeing her in the gold bikini. I felt like my mind had been blown. That was when I saw her again.
Heather was walking on the sidewalk towards us from behind the theatre. She was wearing a the little black dress...
Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. THE little black dress, the form fitting one that's not too short and not too long and can be worn to almost any formal occasion. The cocktail dress.
The vision of her in that little black dress overpowered the memory of gold bikini in an instant and I found myself standing in that parking lot with my mouth agape thinking;
I'm in love with this woman.
That thought never went away. It only grew stronger as time went on.
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