For example, less than two weeks after I came to realize that I was in love with Heather, before we were ever intimate, before we categorized what we had as anything other than a friendship, I told her that I was in love with her.
Blatantly and without fear or shame because I couldn't let her go without having her know.
We were on the phone. She had called me with a soft, low, melancholy tone in her voice to give the bad news.
She was thinking about moving away, back to Texas. She felt that the constant reminders of Ryan and his betrayal surrounded her both mentally and physically. She didn't feel that there was anything for her here, living in her parents basement. She was calling me because I was one of the only people/things she would miss once she was gone.
I didn't even consider censoring myself, "Well, I don't want you to move away because I've fallen completely in love with you."
The silence that followed was horrifying, and seemingly infinite.
Honestly, I don't remember exactly what she said next, just that she eventually spoke. I know she did her best not to discourage my feelings, without fully reciprocating. She told me that she cared about me a lot and that she also had romantic feelings for me. The problem was that she was still dealing with her feelings about Ryan, specifically her feelings of mistrust. She wanted to have something more with me, she just wasn't ready. She did make the point again and again to say how good it made her feel to hear that I loved her.
While blurting out my unfiltered feelings didn't springboard us into the next phase of our relationship, it did accomplish one thing. It stopped her from moving away.
We kept spending the same time together. Hanging out, watching TV, bullshitting, all the time with my professed love floating in the air like weightless pink elephant in the room that everyone sees but nobody minds.
It was a glorious emotional torture. I was single, in love with my best friend and unable to act on those feelings. I had sworn off other women. The few women that I had been pursuing, dating or sleeping with had been passively avoided to the point of almost complete abandonment. Almost. I had been pining over Heather for so many months without any progress, beyond professing my love. The uncomfortable and unavoidable doubts and fears that this romance would never happen were weighing on my mind heavily by the time Halloween rolled around.
Halloween had become my roommate filled household's only annual party and this year there was to be no exception. We all invited everyone we knew. It got a little crazy, as it always did.
Heather showed up late, in a hospital gown. She had been to the ER again to stop a fit of vomiting. She was disappointed, but she went with what she had and appeared at the party as a patient. I went a little crazy that year and went as a demon by painting my upper body and sticking rubber horns to my head to be a demon. My roommate Madelyn set up a portrait studio in the garage to take pictures of party-goers in their costumes so I'm able to show you that together we looked a little something like this:
Halfway through the night, Heather wanted to change to also be a demon, then we looked like this:
Part of me thought that something was finally going to happen between us.
It didn't.
Instead, I ended up with a beautiful redhead in my bed the next morning. Her name was Megan and she was a woman I had been spending time with/ confused about/ trying to date. There was a definite attraction between us, but she was really adverse to any serious or committed relationship at that point in her life. She was one of the aforementioned women that I had distanced myself from since realizing my feelings for Heather.
Heather had gone home the night before, after all, she had already been to the hospital that day. I was drunk. I had been wondering if Heather would ever be ready. I was emotionally and sexually frustrated.
And Megan was the sexiest Freddy Kruger I had ever seen.
Nothing happened. We shared a bed and there was some light kissing the next morning, but nothing else, despite my best efforts.
I told Heather about it (we were just friends after all) and she seemed a bit shocked, but not much. Little did I know, having Megan spend the night had changed everything.
Less than a week later, Heather came over to watch the Redskins / Cowboys game. She had grown up in Fort Worth and she was a fan of Marion Barber, which unfortunately meant that she was a Cowboys fan. I have lived just outside D.C. my whole life. I've met Joe Gibbs. Jeff Bostic used to go to my church. I'm a Redskins fan. This rivalry had become a passionate ongoing joke between us. On this particular Sunday, Heather had worn her Cowboys PJ bottoms. We were in my room after the game and when I turned my back to her, she put on my Redskins shirt, while STILL WEARING her Cowboys PJ's!
I didn't understand why she would do such a thing. (I do now).
I told her that she was wearing my Redskins shirt with a tone that matched my awe and confusion.
"What're you gonna do about it?" she asked with a smile on her face.
It was on.
I leaned in a kissed her deeply. What followed was the most intense, passionate, hungry, sensual and violent sexual encounter of my entire life. My hip joint hasn't been the same since.
It turns out that Megan spending the night had forced Heather to realize that if she wasn't with me, someone else would be. She didn't want to miss her chance.
It would be another week of contemplating before Heather agreed to, "be my girlfriend."
I proposed eight months later.
So the progression went like this; We spent every day together for six months, I told her I was in love with her, we had our first kiss, followed immediately by "sleeping" together for the first time, then we started, "dating."
80mph backwards.
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